


The Witch's Daughter

by Avalonmedieval



Category: Borgias - Ambiguous Fandom, The Borgias (2011)
Genre: Anal Sex, Drama, Dysfunctional Family, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Secrets, Historical, Manhandling, Multiple Orgasms, No Incest, No Slash, Oral Sex, Poison, Rape, Redemption, Romance, Shameless Smut, Sibling Love, Sibling Rivalry, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Violence, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 12:04:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avalonmedieval/pseuds/Avalonmedieval
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b> Cardinal Cesare Borgia and his brother Juan, General of the Papal Army, are gliding on the People of Rome’s fear as they assault and murder anyone hindering their father’s path to power and prosperity. Ignoring their father’s paranoia, they believe they are invincible until a family dinner night turns deadly. The Pope has been poisoned and the Borgian Brothers' only hope is the daughter of a witch; a mysterious maiden the brothers have previously tormented. <b></b></b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Seductress

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first attempt at fanfic and I am dyslexic so if you see any errors, please let me know… Thanks:)) 
> 
> There is a rape scene in the beginning, but this fan fiction is not rape porn, or one of those she gets off on rape kind of stories. I wrote it to reveal the kind of man Cesare is at the beginning of my story. This is a romance/drama with a plot. SMUT

_Hair Black as Night, Skin white as Snow..._

 

Islane inhaled a deep breath and closed her eyes as if to banish her growing fear. “I can do this! I have done this many times before” she mentally swore before releasing a slow breath. Approaching footsteps echoing from the cathedral’s inner hallway draws her back to realty; she straightened her shoulders and lowered her hands to her side.  _It was time._

“Who are you? This wing is reserved for the Papacy, you should not be here." A youthful papal guard with curly red hair said as he made a point to block her path.

The young woman flashed the guard a bewitching smile as she cunningly adjusted her robe to reveal a bit of her bare flesh. She had had years of practice and knew just how to melt a normally alert warrior into a sapling. Her voice a mere whisper, she purred almost timidly “I have a gift for the Dark Prince”.

Jeramann lowered his guard and returned the smile. He was familiar with little beauties surprising his master in the oddest of places. Depending upon Cardinal Cesare’s mood, he knew when he could let one slip by. And this moment could not have come at a better time. Cesare had been forced by his father to attend a Council at St. Mary’s: an unimportant meeting that someone on the low-end of the stick should have attended, but here lately the Pope was suffering from a bit of paranoia taking his sons alone with him. He had ordered his reluctant son to attend. The meeting had been long and dull, and Jeramann knew without a doubt that Cesare needed a pick-me-upper before having to journey back to his father to render a brief of the council.

“As you wish my lady” he smiled and walked passed the seductress without a second thought.

Islane smirked; _it worked every time._  Men were so reckless, always thinking with their cock instead of utilizing good sense. Stepping behind a velvet drapery hemmed in gold lace, she loosened the front of her robe so that sunlight glimmered against her smooth ivory skin. Pinching her nipples to harden them, she tried to dismiss the worries that plagued her mind. She had heard an oral rumor that Cesare Borgia, the Pope’s middle son and Cardinal of Valencia, had been blessed with the gift of the Devil’s Insight. She hoped fervently that this was indeed just a rumor or he would run her through on sight. She shook her head. She did not know what was wrong with her. She had been trained to do this and had accomplished such acts before flawlessly… “and this time would be no different”, her mind whirled.

Like most other souls living in Rome, she had seen Cardinal Cesare from a-far usually during festivals as he horse-raced his brother through the city streets or during Holiday Mass. The thought of the dark sultry man known for debauchery and murder draped in holy robes almost spouted a smile upon her lips. Like his sinful father, Pope Alexander VI, Cesare had no right to the Papacy _. She was a fine one to judge considering the life that she lived._

The rustle of Cesare’s robes sprung her back to reality. She had thought she would have heard his bootsteps approaching, but it seemed the Dark Prince treaded more softly than his guard. Swallowing her fear, she slowly stepped from the drapery in hopes of not alarming him. Cesare was also known for his agile warriorhood and she did not want to be sliced down before he realized that she was just a simple maiden seeking to pleasure his holiness.

To her surprise, Cesare do not even flinch as he continued a feline-like stroll toward her. Her heart pounded, her eyes drinking the sight of his masculinity. Even through the fine robe of velvet, one could see a silhouette of strength and muscle. His shoulder length hair rested on wide shoulders that seemed to have been cut out of steel. His face free of blemishes with flawlessly silky flesh faint like the color of creamy tea. As her eyes gracefully trailed his body, she caught herself holding her breath like a virginal maiden.  _This was not how it was supposed to be. He was her prey, not the other way around._

Cesare armed with keen senses had known that someone was hiding behind the curtains even before she stepped from its shadows. Although he managed to conceal it, he was surprised to find his stalker a fair female instead of an assassin monk bent on killing him.

He glared at the young female. She was an attractive woman with an oval face, high cheek bones, and dark cat-shaped eyes. She wore a red robe that was purposely unlaced revealing voluptuous curves and meaty breasts firmly perched and from the look of her taunt nipples, they needed to be suckle.

With an emotionless face, he stood only inches from her. Islane could feel Cesare’s flesh heat radiating through his regal garment. Mustering every ounce of courage, she met his fathomless eyes. They were dark and unreadable as his face. He was as good at controlling his emotions as she had heard. She had expected him to speak and after several seconds that seemed to be laced with eternity, she purred “I have a gift for you, my lord”.

Cesare lowered his eyes as if dismissing her and smirked smugly. Mingled with a condemning chuckle, he asked “And who sends this gift?”

Having been accustomed to men bowing to her sensuality, Cesare’s sarcastic jeer infuriated her. Trying to conceal the anger that warmed her veins and continue with the charade, she stepped forward into his embraced. Allowing the robe to flow away from her body, she wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on the tips of her toes to whisper in his ear “I will tell you after you have received, I mean ENJOYED your gift” while caressing his swollen manhood. She felt him harden… _Yes, under this saintly robe and gold cross, he was human after all; a mere man…_

With that Cesare pierced down at the mysterious woman; sunlight blush her skin illuminating an ivory complexion. She was alluring; an obvious enchantress familiar with pleasures of the flesh. Darkly amused, he ran his fingers down her neck and across the tips of her breast. With one hand stroking him, she used the other to pull his face to her lips. He smirked as she tried to kiss him and forced her mouth to his throat allowing her devourer his flesh.

Cesare’s skin tasted fresh like neroli: a soap the wealthy lavished. She smiled cunningly when she felt him unfasten his robe. Lifting her leg to allow him entry, she clung to his chest kissing, biting, licking - doing everything she had been taught to make a man crippled to good thought. She could hear his heartbeat strengthen and knew he was falling victim to her expertise.

With breath like fresh snow, Cesare asked in a low husky voice, “Who sends this gift?”

Islane spellbound with the anticipation of ecstasy, giggled a bit and pretended as if she was about to whisper the answer and instead captured his mouth with her lips while wrapping her left leg around his waist. Cesare growled and withdrew from her lips, biting hard into the side of her neck. As if he was about to enter her moist threshold, he slammed her body hard against the stone wall, sieged her wrists, and ripped the dagger from her dainty hand.

Flinging the weapon across the room, he wrenched a fist-full of hair almost ripping it from the scalp. Lifting her hips to accept his lust-filled cock, Cesare impaled her saturated tunnel with one unrestrained thrust plunging deep into her feminine core.

Islane cried out from the brutal entry.

Still gripping her hair, Cesare stilled inside of her and forced her to look into his face. A nefarious glint lurked within his phantom eyes as he hissed through gritted teeth “Who sent this gift?”

Everything that she had been warned about this monster had been true. Somehow he had seen through her well devised ploy. He had been blessed with Satan’s insight. And now the predator had become the prey. She loathed him. She could not believe that only moments ago, she had relished the pleasure of his body, yearned to taste his lips. Defiance flashed within her eyes,  _NO, she would not tell him._  Boiling with seething hate, she barked “I am not some mindless tavern wench; I have been raised and trained to withstand torture. You won’t get anything from me, nor can someone like you hurt me. I have been fuck in every manner imaginable and you, Son of the Pope, will not break me!”

Cesare chuckled low and menacing before slamming sledge-hammer thrusts inside of his would-be assassin. A rage of sadistic passion possessed him devouring her body meant to punish and conquer.

Islane bit into her bottom lip to keep from crying out. She would not surrender the pleasure of her agony to this sadist beast. She had heard of Cesare’s reputation for having a fondness for sinister passion. Although she had been curious to sample him, she had never intended to submit. She had planned to drive the dagger deep into his back muscles before ever allowing him the delight of her inner core. Now she would have to suffer for her mistake. A mistake that might cost her life.

Pinning Islane beneath his dominating wrath, leaving her powerless against his hard-ramming hips, he impaled her with his thick pulsating shaft. She closed her eyes and arched her hips to take his violent lust in strive. Cesare snarled as his virile body blended with hers. She squirmed against the torment which only seemed to excite him more. He rode her harder. It seemed he could not drive hard enough, deep enough, fast enough to quench the savage fever of lust that burned within his loins. No mere female would ever subdue him. Greater assassins had tried and failed.

Blood twinkled down her legs from the coarse stone wall lacerating her backside. Cesare penetrated her threshold with such feral fury, she felt as if she was being ripped into. She could feel his throbbing organ thrusting beneath her navel sending agonizing pain radiating through her abdomen. Now whimpering like a hurt puppy, she dug her nails into his back hoping to wake him from the savage realm of uncontrollable ecstasy. The gesture did not faze him. He seemed lost within a bestial-like climax.

Withering beneath the mass of punishing passion, no longer possessing the will to fight him, Islane cried out “Bishop Adamo sent me!” telling Cesare all he wanted to know.

Tossing Islane to the stone floor as if she were a rag-doll, Cesare jacked his creamy male nectar unto her head. When she tried to shield her face from his searing balm, he laughed at her fruitless attempt.

After he replaced his robe and with the spell of malice passion soothed, he witnessed the torture of his lustful inquisition in the bedraggled wench’s wrecked expression. Her hair was rippled and sweaty clinging to a tear-streaked face. Her elegant robe was now torn and bloody, dripping with his essence. _He did not pity her, not even a bit. She deserved what she had reaped and more._

Feeling degraded and worthless, Islane stared into Cesare’s stony expression; a tear glistened in the corner of her eye. He smiled taking perverse pride in the surrender of her reflection.

“Guards!”

The lanky red-headed guard returned bringing a few extra men with him.

“Take this bitch to the dungeon and derive what is left from her.”

The guard’s boyish face flashed an all-knowing grin before jerking Islane to her feet.

Her heart sank like an anchor. Shattered, Islane bellowed “They will rape me to death”, but was too molested to struggle against the onslaught of gripping hands that dug into her already bruised flesh.

She heard over her shoulder Cesare laughing out “It is no less than you deserve for you will burn in hell Mistress of Murder as I, Cardinal Cesare of the Borgian Dynasty, ordained by God, sentence you to answer for your crimes.”


	2. The Witch

 

Pancho listened intently to the conversation that he was supposed to ignore as he prepared his masters’ spiced tea and bread pudding. While his ear clung to every word, his eyes knew to remain lowered to his kitchen duty.

“A highway murder” Juan offered, trying to appease his brother, Cesare.

Cesare shook his head as he reached for the hot brew Pancho offered him. After taking a sip, he spread his leg out on an empty chair and said “No. That has been done time and time again, too suspicious.”

Juan ate a bit of the bread, too engrossed in his family’s dilemma to even notice the delicious flavor and extra spices that had been put into the sweet pastry. “I am out of ideas, brother. We have exhausted every cause of death that we can inflict without being accused directly.”

“We need something more natural. Father doesn’t like the look of murder. It reflects badly on the Papacy.”

Juan swallowed the last of the midnight snack. “If only there was a way to poison him, but make it appear natural as if he contracted some deadly disease.”

The brothers drifted into silence as if pondering other options. Pancho, always looking for a way to advance himself from kitchen servant to a soldier in the Papacy Army, used their problem to his advantage. Knowing the severe punishment for breaking into a noble’s conversation, he bit the bullet and spoke up. “I know of a way” he said a little more loudly than he had intended.

The brothers glanced up, angered that a mere peasant would dare speak without being spoken to. Pancho knew from the irritation in their reflection that he had better convince them or he would be whipped raw, or worse knowing the brothers’ reputation for torture.

“I know, a um, girl who can help.”

Juan stood and balled his fist. Cesare reclined in his chair apparently amused to watch his brother put the servant boy in his place.

“A girl?” Juan growled.

Pancho twisted nervously, all the while taking cautious steps away from Juan. “She is the daughter of a witch.”

Juan stopped, relaxed his hands and tilted his head as if suddenly interested.

_This was it_ ; Pancho knew he had only a second to convince him. “She knows the dark herbs. I think she can poison him, but make it look just as you said; a natural sickness.”

Cesare finally joined into the conversation with a threat, “You think?”

With that, Juan tensed and Pancho replied quickly, “I know… I know she can do it.”

Cesare grinned, revealing a perfect set of pearly whites. “Then take us to your witch girl, but for your sake, you better pray that she can help us.”

Juan reached for his riding cape. “No brother, for her own sake.”

Pancho felt his insides melt as Cesare joined Juan’s wicked snicker, now regretting that he had opened his mouth. He knew Friar well. He had grown up beside her and he knew she would not be inclined to help anyone murder someone. But as General Juan had said, for her sake she had better.

Pancho fought the chill of the night as he rode horseback leading the Borgian Brothers outside the city toward the remote area where he had grew up. With the late hour, he knew he would find young Friar alone, probably asleep by now. Her mother had died a few years back of the same sickness that had taken his parents. Even though there were no other families now living in the area, Friar had chosen to stay in the lonely dwelling. Like her mother, she made her money selling herbs to heal the sick and sometimes good luck charms to desperate fools brave enough to leave the city's protective walls.

The horses faltered, apparently fearful of entering the dark forest. Juan glanced at Pancho, nervously “What kind of a maiden dwells in these haunted woods?”

Cesare, who was often amused by his oldest brother cowardliness, chuckled, “A witch girl” and tapped his mare’s ribs to enter the eerie forest pool.

Beneath the cold glare of the hollow night, darkness oozed from the shadowy forest. Fireflies cast a gleaming glow from the witchery of the moonlight. The wind charged fiercely, howling and whirling as if foreshadowing an ill faith to come. From a corner darken by shadows, yowled a wolf.

Inhaling a breath of crispy night wind mingled with wood smoke, foretold Pancho that they were near the little settlement. He held up his hand and pointed in the direction of Friar’s cottage. Juan rode to his side. “Is she alone?”

“Yes, my Lord. The settlement has long been deserted, only Friar remains.”

“Just like a creepy witch” Juan muttered as he dug his spurs into the side of his black stallion and darted into the direction of Friar’s cottage as if on some dire mission. Cesare followed with less haste.

Pancho felt his knees grow weak as Juan kicked the door in and heard the terror in Friar’s startled cry. By the time he entered the cottage, Cesare had lit an oil lamp while Juan hovered over the petrified young woman.

“What do you want?” she asked, knowing by their regal attire they were not churlish bandits.

Cesare swallowed hard as he eyed the frightened maiden wearing only a frail night covering. The light from the lamp illuminated the almost translucent gown revealing the girl’s slender belly, voluptuous hips, and petite breast. Cesare glanced to Juan, who had yet to speak and noted that he too was astonished by the beauty of the mere peasant girl. Cesare assumed the daughter of a witch would look like a witch; ugly and probably a bit heavy, but this little witch was anything but ugly. She had waist-length midnight locks tumbled in wild disarray about her petite shoulders that shimmered with the moonbeams sparkling from an open window. Her eyes were a rare pale blue, a shade of blue he had never seen before. The unique shade of her eyes seemed to compliment her pale pink lips that were lusciously full and plump.

Now recovered, Juan growled “Pancho here says that you can help us.”

Having been awaken from a deep slumber and scared out of her wits, Friar had overlooked her old childhood friend, whom seemed to be hiding in the shadowy corner. “Pancho?” she asked, her voice as soft and silky as her flesh appeared to be.

Cesare felt his manhood stir at the velvety texture of her voice. The pretty maiden cast a halo of innocence and sanity serenity; qualities that appealed to him on a sensual level. He had always had an enthrallment for innocent maidens; a rare delicacy among the whores of Rome.

Pancho tried to speak, but his voice cracked, “I told them you knew herbs…”

Before he could finish, Juan cut him off “And that your mother was a witch.”

“Pancho!” she cried, her voice whirling with disbelief.

Cesare feared that she was on the verge of crying and spoke up. “Do you know who we are?”

Her attention now directed on the dark stranger, who was in the process of pulling his cloak from his head to reveal his identity. She shook her head bashfully. “Yes my Lord, but I am not sure I can help you.”

“You know herbs?” Juan asked.

“Yes’

“And now that you know who we are, you know that anything we ask of will benefit his Holiness?”

Her reflection grew suspicious and replied hesitantly “Yes.”

Juan and Cesare both grinned mischievously at the same moment. They were not dealing with a simple-minded peasant.

“I need a potion; something tasteless that can be added to soup or drink that will cause one to die in a manner that doesn’t reek of poison.”

Friar eyes widen with disbelief. She shook her head as if mortified and stuttered the words “I will not help you kill someone!”

Always the quickest to anger, Juan reached for the scarcely dressed maiden. Gripping her by the shoulders, he shook her hard. “Do you know of such a potion?”

Juan could hear her heart pound frantically. She feared him. He liked that. It reminded him that he was one of the most powerful men in Rome.

“Yes!” Defiantly she lifte her head and hissed “But I will not help you murder anyone!”

She had barely uttered the words before Juan backhanded her to the floor.

Cesare flinched as her tiny body toppled the hard floor.

She watched in horror as Juan began to unfasten his pants.

Pancho intestines knotted and without thinking, he blurted out “I did not bring you here to harm her.” Although he rarely saw Friar anymore, there was still closeness from the years they had spent playing together as children. He could not bear to see her suffer for his avaricious ambition.

Rage flamed within Juan’s glare. “Get the hell out of here or I will run you through boy.”

Always quick to put himself first, Pancho fled knowing his life depended upon obedience. “I am sorry Friar” he shouted over his shoulder as he slammed the door to wait by the horses.

Before Juan could finish unlacing his pants, Cesare placed a hand to halt his brother. Juan looked as if he was about to retaliate, but stopped himself from arguing in front of a peasant. Instead, he glared at Cesare as he knelt beside Friar whose corner lip was blooming a drip of warm blood.

Sensually Cesare caressed Friar’s chin and titled her face to peer into his. Her eyes were almost overflowing with un-shed tears. A hue of divinity seemed to cling around her like a subtle vapor. He felt his heart speed at the warm of her body near his own.

In a low voice, he asked “Do you know what happens to witches?” while focusing on her lips. They seemed as pale as pearls. He wanted to kiss her, something he never did with harlots.

She shook her head slightly no as his hand remained cupped around her delicate chin. Innocence shimmered within her eyes. She was definitely virginal.

“We burn them at the stake.” He slithered dryly, watching her beautiful features crumble as she whimpered softly, “But I am not a witch, your holiness.”

Cesare’s lips formed as cocky smug smile making his eyebrows frown. “You will give me the potion or I will burn you as a witch.”

She pouted like a dainty child and unintentionally sucked in her bottom lip; the simple gesture causing both Juan and Cesare to stiffen.

Flaunting insolence, Friar curled her lips with a defiant scorn and said “And if I help you poison someone, I will also burn. I would rather burn in this life than for eternity in the next.”

“You defiant little bitch!” Juan scolded; he had thought she had been on the verge of breaking.

No longer intent on playing the game, Cesare wrench a fist-full of her sable mane and forced her face only inches from his lips. She whimpered from the strain of her scalp and he immediately loosened his grip. “Than I shall damn your soul for I have the power to do so as Cardinal.”

Defeated, the blooming tears flowed and Cesare felt his heart heave. He never secured pleasure from hurting women, especially innocent ones like Friar. He glanced at his brother and the look on Juan’s face was completely the opposite. Juan looked like a lion ready to tear into the flesh of tender fawn. He read his brother’s thoughts and knew if he did not intervene he would spilt this little fawn into.

“Will you help us?” Cesare asked, hoping the girl would submit before he could no longer contain his brother’s lustful temper.

Muffling a sob, she nodded yes like a little child who had just received a good spanking.

Cesare released her hair and smiled pleased.

“Cesare?” Juan questioned.

Cesare nodded his head no.

Juan looked as if he was ready to physically fight but turned away rubbing his manhood as if to console it.

“Cease the weeping. It is time to be a big girl and do what your Cardinal asks of you.” Cesare commanded, standing to allow the girl time to tame her emotions. He admired how defiantly audacious she had been in the beginning. Most women bowed without hesitation to his supremacy. Only the fear of damnation had broken her.

Juan pulled Cesare toward the darkness of the dwelling. “Let us enjoy her.”

Cesare shook his head no. He had enjoyed many of women with his brother, but not this one. She was not much older than his child sister and obviously naive in the ways of men. There was no way she could take them both and live through it. And they needed her alive, at least until she granted them the lethal potion.

Juan grabbed his brother’s elbow, “Damn it man! Look at the wench! She needs a good fucking.”

“I said no!” Cesare snapped, shoving Juan’s hand away. _How like his brother to act on raw emotion instead of thinking plans through._

Friar realized what was taking place between the two brothers. She knew the older brother was trying to convince his younger to joint rape her even through she had complied with their demands. Thankfully the well known Cardinal was not inclined to indulge his brother. For that he had earned her respect.

Juan threw his hands up, defeated, and walked outside.

Cesare turned to Friar, “Get up and give me what I want.”

From the gleam in his eyes, it seemed the Holy Cardinal wanted something more than a potion, but something had kept his lust at bay and for that Friar was thankful. She stood and walked toward a pantry containing an array of herbs in glass bottles and baskets.

Cesare allowed his eyes to rest on her bottle-shaped hips swaying as she walked. She began mixing herbs in a wooden mortar crushing them by pestle. Cesare stood close to her watching her every move. As she poured the contents into a viral, she asked “Who is this meant for?”

Cesare smiled smugly, but did not answer.

Lifting her head in defiance, she said “Then tell me it is not meant for an innocent person.”

Captured by the bewitchment in her fair eyes, he responded honestly “The person who will suffer your poison will blatantly deserve it for he has murdered countless innocent people during his gratuitous life span.”

His words seemed to console her. Handing him the viral, she asked in a voice sweet as honey “Are you going to kill me now?”

Cesare accepted the viral, his reflection bewildered. “Why would I kill you?”

“To cover up the evidence” She replied, taking a step back as if stricken with a sudden fear.

Now grinning mischievously, Cesare pressed his body against Friar’s. Her head barely reaching his chest, she looked up to him as he caressed her face with a hint of seduction, “Why would I kill you when I have use of you in the future?”

Recklessly, she shoved him away. Like a mountain, he did not budge.

Amused with her insolent behavior, he laughed sarcastically. “You will see me again, small one.” He chuckled smugly as he dashed into the blackness.

The trio rode in silence until Juan reined in beside Cesare. Cesare frowned and handed him the viral. Juan jerked it from his clutches and slithered. “Did you bed her?”

Cesare replied dryly “Did you hear her beg for mercy?”

“Mercy? You bestowed mercy by stopping me. Why brother? To save her for yourself?”

“Enough Juan, you are not thinking straight. You are always so rash. Rage serves no purpose in this situation. The manner in which you would have taken her would have probably killed her and what good would that have done for us? Now we have the potion and a willing helper when we need her. If this works, she will come in handy in the future.”

Juan seemed to relax. “Maybe you are right brother.” At times, Juan admired his brother’s logical thinking.

They rode for a while in silence until reaching the premise of the city. The dwellers slept allowing tranquility to radiate throughout the streets. The only sound was an occasional dog growl, probably a warning to approaching rats at play.

“She was a virgin, I could tell. She would have felt good.” Juan hissed, his mind replaying the night’s events as mental images danced in his head.

At the mention of the little witch, a sudden aching sensation pierced Cesare’s groin. Yes, she would have but not the way Juan would have token her. Unlike his brother, Cesare liked his women willing…willing to give him pleasure as well as eager to receive it.

Cesare rode toward home while his brother sought a good fuck from the local tavern.


	3. The Game

“News from the Papacy Messenger just arrived. Cardinal Brutus finally drew his last breath. Funeral arrangements are being arranged.”

 

Cesare glanced from Micheletto to Juan and smiled. Their plan had worked.

 

Distracted from the game of chess he had been playing with his brother, Juan asked Micheletto “Were their any suspicions?”

 

“Not a one, even Brutus’s own personal physician ruled the cause of death sickness of the lungs.”

 

“That is what comes of too many years of religious incense” Cesare replied before turning his attention back to the game.

 

  While Juan glared at the marble board trying to decide his next move, Cesare allowed his thoughts to mentally travel back to the witch girl who had made this good fortune possible. He could all too easily conjure the voluptuous contour of her unused body and angelic face. It was rare to find beauty in a peasant and never did he dream of putting himself into one, but this one was different, this one he wanted to drive himself full extent until every drop his male nectar had been extracted. 


	4. Goblin's Breath

 

The clouds gradually parted creating a peephole allowing the moon to spill silvery beams upon the courtyard where the Borgia Family dined. Beaming at the moon, Lucretiza sang “God bless the full moon” and blew a kiss sending the childish wish unto the Heavens. She seemed to be searching the sky, her eyes taking refugee among the stars. Crickets hidden under the golden haze in the garden hummed a tranquil lullaby adding to the enchanted moment.

Cesare silently admired his sister’s buoyancy of youth and at times envied it. Even as a child, his mind never wandered far from his studies and political affairs. How often his mother complained about his maturity when his father had praised him for it. He had always been told that he was an old soul living inside a youthful body.

“Are you dreaming of what it would be like to journey to the moon?” Lucrezia asked interrupting Cesare’s momentary childhood memories.

“Yes.” Cesare lied.

Bursting into laughter, Lucrezia said “I think you are telling me a fib, dear brother as it is rare for you to daydream and even when you do, you dream of worldly things.”

Cesare joined his younger sister by four years in laughter.

“Do you love me Cesare?” She giggled full childish delight.

Without hesitation, he replied “As I love myself.”

“And how long will you love me like this?”

“Until the stars rain down from the Heavens”

Lucrezia leaped from her chair and pounced into his lap. “Does that mean until the end of times?”

Cesare wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered “It does, dear one.”

Juan rolled his eyes agitated by his sibling’s childish display of affection. The Pope noticed and interrupted before Juan said something that would ruin the evening. It wasn’t often time allowed for the entire family to spend a private night together.

“Juan, I have failed to mention how proud and honored I am that you and your men tracked and reprehended the band of highwaymen that robbed Brother Samuel’s Abbey. It is no small thing to have a son as competent as you. I do not know where the Papacy would be without you.”

Juan perked up always delighted when someone praised him.

The Pope was about to inquire further when pain glistened in his eyes draining the curiosity from his heart.

Lucretiza and Cesare dashed to their feet. “What is it, Holy Father?”

In a raspy voice he replied, “My stomach” as he doubled over in agonizing pain.

The brothers went to his side as Lucretiza wailed hysterically for the servants to rush for the Pope’s personal physician _. What was to have been a joyful night abruptly turned into a night that would forever be etched in the Borgia Family’s soul._

Hours later, Lucretiza collapsed in her mother embrace as the physician announced sympathetically, “He is dying. He has been poisoned.”

“How?” “Why?” and “Are you sure?” exclaimed from all directions.

“Is there nothing you can do?” Cesare asked rationally.

“I am sorry, there is not.”

“Poison? Is there not an antidote?” Juan asked, his voice edgy. Even though he cared little for most people, his father had been the apple of his eye and in return, Juan was his father’s most adored child.

The physician shrugged his shoulders, “He had been poisoned by goblin’s breath and regrettably, there is not a known antidote for this. Only God can help him now.”

As comprehension set in, tears filled Juan’s eyes. He had not wept since childhood and even then, the act had come rarely. He knew if he was to speak anymore that his voice would choke and now wanting to portray weakness, he fell into a chair in the corner of the bed chamber to wait for his father to draw his last breath.

Cesare glanced from Juan’s defeat to where his father slept. The old man was pale as a ghost and breathing shallow. Cesare was thankful that his father slept. He had spent the last hour crying out in anguish, pleading with God to end his suffering. Finally when he could not tolerate anymore, he collapsed in a deep slumber.

The physician stood over him carefully wiping a small bit of foam from his pale lips. There was no hope now, Rome’s most powerful man would be dead by morning.

Cesare unintentionally placed his hand over his heart. Even though he knew he was not his father’s chosen son, he still loved him very much. His untimely and agonizing death would tear at his heart and even more so at Lucretiza’s. She was still a child and losing her father would devastate her. Cesare was a strong man, but the sound of his angelic sister’s weeping crippled him.

Vanozza had a male servant help collect Lucrezia and aid her down stairs. She did not think it proper for her daughter to witness the sight of her father’s last breath. Memories like that could haunt a child forever.

Downstairs Lucretiza’s mind reeled. The doctor had said there was no known antidote, not that there was not one.  _It only lacked discovery_. Delusions whispered in her ear. There had to be a way to save her father. She was not going to give up hope like the rest of her family had and accept his death.

Without thinking she dashed into the library and sought desperately for a medical book and with a bolt of frustration, she flung the book against the wall. The answer would not be found in a book, if so the doctor would already know it. She wasn’t thinking rationally.

Minding reeling,  _what was it she had overheard a few weeks back_? Something about a witch girl that knew herbs, herbs that could kill and that were so inconspicous that even doctors could not detect them.

_Yes! That was it!_

“Pancho” she shouted as she raced across the elegant landscaped yard. She had overheard the maids whispering that her brothers had ridden out in a mysterious manner in the middle of night with Pancho, and Cardinal Brutus had died only a few days later. She was not as naive as her family thought; she had easily put two and two together.


	5. The Pope and the Angel

****

**Two hours later**

Pain gripped Cesare’s heart as he watched his teary-eyed mother gently sponge his father’s forehead. Even though Rodrigo had cast Vanozza aside with age, she still loved him. Vanozza had been a loyal wife and a compassionate mother. Juan had been a father’s son while Cesare was considered a mother’s boy. It pained him to see her heart grieve.

Un-expectantly the chamber doors burst open. Juan and Cesare both pounced to their feet as orders had been given for everyone not in the immediate family to remain off premises during the Pope’s final hours.

The brothers faltered as Lucretiza escorted the mysterious witch girl through the golden arched double doors.

“Why have you brought her here?” asked Juan, his face contorted with anger.

“Who is this?” asked Vanozza. She knew her daughter well and there would be a satisfactory explanation.

“She can help our Holy Father. She knows the antidote for goblin’s breath.”

With that the well knowledgeable physician pounced to his feet. “I have been a doctor for over forty years and I know medicine better than anyone among this land. There is not a cure for goblin’s breath. Whoever this wench is has misled you… probably seeking gold coins.”

Friar was trying to reply, but her voice fail as Juan stepped between her and the Pope’s bed. With rage as his guide, he reached for Friar as Lucretzia screamed out, her little voice on the verge of hysterics.

“Juan! Let her be!”

“I will not allow that peasant witch anywhere near my father!”

Cesare physically restrained Juan as he ordered his mother to take Lucretiza from Juan’s sight. By this time, the physician had retreated to the opposite side of the bed.

Friar ignored him and marched toward Juan and spat “I can save you father! You can swallow your ignorant pride and let me administer him the antidote or you can insult me and be the cause of your father’s death! The choice is up to you.”

Cesare released Juan and turned on Friar “Do you know of an antidote?”

Friar glared directly into Cesare’s dark eyes and hissed “Yes, or I would not be here.” And to the physician she barked “Lunar seed is the answer. Lunar seed can counter act the lethality of goblin’s breath.”

The physician stood his ground puffing his chest out defiantly “Lunar seed is lethal and you will only quicken his death.”

Juan’s eyes grew murderous. Cesare squinted his brows as if pondering what Friar had said.  _Did she know something the physician did not?_   She probably did considering she grew up dealing with herbs that conventional doctors worked at moving away from. But the notion that she might have come seeking vengeance on him and Juan for forcing her to abet them in murder echoed in the back of his mind.

“You fight poison with poison.” Friar defended, placing her hands on her hips.

The physician leered at Cesare as if pleading and said “Do not allow this to happen. She will only cause the Pope more suffering.”

Cesare waved the physician away and gripped Friar gently by her shoulders. Panic seized his heart as waves of nausea flooded him internally. “Fight poison with poison? You have seen this done?”

Compassion filled Friar’s pretty face as she placed her hand on Cesare’s heart. It seemed the man that the Romans most feared did have a human heart after all. “Yes, I have witnessed my mother breathe the life back into numerous children who managed to accidental digest poisonous plants in the wild. I can do this but only if we do it now. If we continue to waste time, his heart will slow to an irretrievable beat and he will die.”

“Do it!” Cesare growled, his unsure voice betraying his words.

“No, Brother!”

Cesare released Friar and turned to embrace his brother. “We have nothing to lose. He is dying anyways. If there is a shot, let us take it.”

Mind swaying emotions swarmed through Juan’s head. He felt his knees buckle like a broken branch leaving him impotent to stand on his own. Cesare helped him sit on the edge of the bed. From there they watched Friar as she withdrew a jar from her basket and gently administer a small amount to the Pope’s tongue. She smiled and caressed the Pope’s chin as if he were a small child.

The sun faded with the stars as night beckoned. The physician had long retired downstairs in the guest chamber. Lucretiza had slept fitfully beside her mother in a bed chamber connecting to the Pope’s room. Juan had fell asleep sometime after midnight on a French imported chaise on the opposite side of the Pope’s bed while Cesare had drifted into a shallow slumber at his father’s feet. Only Friar remained alert.

Rodrigo dreamed he was in a cloudy heaven with a dark-haired angel dressed in white sponging his forehead. “I never thought I would be forgiven enough to see this place.” He spoke in a raspy weak tone.

Friar smiled as she stoke his forehead. “And you still may not.” She whispered knowing her patient thought he had died. She had seen enough souls brought back to life to know they usually opened their eyes mistaking the light as Heaven’s glow.

Friar stood and patted Cesare on his shoulder. “Cesare…”

The young Cardinal leapt to his feet awaking Juan as he called out for Lucretiza.

Friar was leaving as Lucretiza and her mother rushed in. Before closing the door to allow the family privacy from the array of churchmen that had obviously waited outside the door all night without sleep, she smiled watching the family toppled the Pope’s bed. Although she was happy for them, their delight stung at her heart.  _How she missed her mother._  She had been living in solitude for years missing the company of loved ones. And the notion of marriage was out of the question with the rumor of witchery. No man in his right mind would risk marrying a possible witch. She was destined to be alone.


	6. The Reward

The Pope was up and about back to his old self after a brief brush with death within a week of being resurrected by Friar and even more paranoid of would-be assassins. Just this morning he called two meetings with the Cardinals, a luncheon with the Bishop of Naples, and still had time to bark orders at his sons. Cesare smiled fondly vividly recalling the strength in his father’s voice as he rode beyond the city and into the emerald forest pool. Although his father’s constant demands agitated him, he was thankful that he was still around to control his life and he had all of this to thank Friar for.

 

Cesare, dressed in a scarlet cardinal’s robe, dismounted and tied his mare to a tree a little ways from Friar’s cottage. He wanted to spy on her a bit before surprising her with a small fortune; payment for saving the life of the Pope of Rome. He smiled to himself imagining the enchanting girl accepting the gracious payment with bright eyes and a beaming smile. He had never seen her smile and could easily foresee how beautiful her smile would be.

 

Shaded from sight, Cesare crouched behind a hoard of dense ferns and spotted Friar watering a little garden of herbs and vegetables. Sunlight spilled upon her body like a fairy mist, its golden rays illuminating her saintly white gown as if she were an angel from Heaven. Her virginal skin was as smooth as river-washed pebbles. Recalling how soft her flesh had felt beneath his finger tips, he felt his body yearn to caress and taste every inch of her body.

 

“My Lord?” she called out as she stood straight and folded her arms across her chest.

 

“You heard my horse rang in?” Cesare inquired, stepping from the ferny covering.

 

As he approached in a slow stride, Friar allowed her eyes to admire the sight of the dangerous man that a person in her position should have never met. He carried himself with an arrogant male grace that boasted of ascending supremacy. He was a good foot and half taller than she, with dark shoulder length wind tossed hair. His handsome features were the first thing a woman would notice about him, but today his features appealed even more pleasing because he was smiling; a very rare thing he displayed in public and almost never to a peasant.

 

With coy reluctance she taunted, “No, I could feel your eyes stalking me as I worked.”

 

Cesare’s smile grew wider, so she wanted to play, but just how far into the game would she go…

 

“Are you thinking of running from me?” No longer in the role of the serious churchman but that of a mischievously young man flirting with a maiden he would like to make his own.

 

A spark of vitality shimmered within her reflection. Knowing the better of it, she giggled “Do ladies often try to escape you?”

 

Cesare liked this side of her and eagerly hoped she would continue the flirtatious charade, “There is no escaping me once I decide that I want something.”

 

He was right and Friar knew it. He was the son of the Pope and one of the most powerful men in Rome. Whatever he wanted, he took and like most men in power, once he had it, he tired of it quickly whether it be a new sword, a horse, or a woman.

 

A pang of regret slashed through her heart radiating reality, batting her sooty lashes, she glanced away to pry her eyes from his kissable lips. “Why have you come?” She asked in a serious tone hoping to change the subject.

 

Friar’s momentary promiscuous bewitchment vanished like a vapor before the sun. Cesare felt his smile grow limp with disappointment. “You do not have to fear me.”

 

“I don’t” she replied still averting her eyes.

 

Hoping to bring out her siren nature, he withdrew a key from his robe; the gift he had intended to bestow upon her for saving his father’s life.

 

“A gift from my family to honor you for what you did for my father.”

 

Friar glared at the iron key in Cesare’as hand, but did not reach for it. “What is it?”

 

With a voice radiating pride, the brash Cardinal answered, “It is a key to an exquisite mansion; the columns are made of marble, the drapes are hemmed in gold, and in your bedchamber on a voluptuous bed of silk, you will find the floors layered in gold coins and all of it is yours.”

 

Friar beautiful face fell into stern lines. “Do you think a big home with elegant furnishings and silk linen is why I saved your father? Look around you Cesare, look at my little cottage, my quant garden, I have everything I would ever want or need here.”

 

Displaying confusion, Cesare glanced around at the peasant dwelling; a two room drafty cottage made of wattle and daub. There was a wooden table with two chairs near a brick laid hearth in the middle of a weedy yard. Beside the little garden of veggies and strange herbs was a worn path that led a good size creek that obviously served as the girl’s bathing area.  _How could anyone live in these conditions_?

 

Friar read Cesare’s thoughts by the distaste in his reflection. “Keep your fine home.” She said, bending his fingers over his palm to cover the key.

 

“I was just trying to reward you. I can’t imagine being content living like this.”

 

 _Like this_ was Friar’s home; a home that she was thankful to have. “So unless you are wealthy and reside lavishly, you see no reason to live? Your outlook on life is very sad Cesare. I pity you.”

 

Anger lacing his voice, he snapped back. “Then why did you do it? Why did you save my father?”

 

“Because your sister asked me to. She did not command me or threaten me! She asked for my help. And I did it because it was the right thing to do!”

 

That was easy to picture; Lucretzia bore a pure and kind heart. She would have approached Friar in friendship and respectfully asked for help. Something he and his brother should have did.

 

“At least take the gold.”

 

“As I said. I have everything I need here.” She turned to walk away but Cesare quickly approached from behind and pulled her into the inviting cove of his body. He wrapped his arms from her back around the front of her chest and lowered his face to caress her cheek. Her skin was sleek and smelled like freshly fallen snow.

 

A fluttering sensation swept through Friar’s body. The smoothness of his hairless face and the warm of his breath cast her mind into turmoil. No man had ever held her like this. She had never even been kissed. Romantic sentiments were unreal to her, something she dreamed about during the quiet hours of the night, but here it was, no longer a dream but real, something she could reach out and experience in reality.

 

“I see no man here to wrap his strong arms around you. I see no one to enjoy your flesh and hold you throughout the night. Everyone needs this and I do not see any of this here. So do not tell me that you have everything that you need because you do not.” He whispered allowing his cozy breath to tantalize her bare neck.

 

“You are a fine one to talk wearing holy robes.” She replied, fighting the sensual emotion bewitching her good senses.

 

“It is human nature to want to be caressed…neither I, nor the Papacy anointed this. No dear one, human nature originated from God. And it is with God’s will that a woman be loved by a man.”

 

Yielding to the charm of the moment, Friar closed her eyes, relaxed her back, and drifted deep into his embrace with her back against his chest and her buttocks sensual cupped by his muscular thighs. She felt his manhood grow erect as he ran his fingers up her dress line to caress her inner thigh. Being inexperienced she did not know what to do back to him. He knew this and relished her un-used body. Restlessly, he explored her flesh with his tongue kindling a trail down her neck to the swollen peaks of her nipples.

 

Involuntarily, she sighed and Cesare knew she could no longer resist his touch. Whipping around to face him, he cuddled and kissed her allowing his tongue to scantily penetrate her mouth. Eager to learn, she reciprocated with delight.

 

Bewitched by her stimulating behavior, a narcotic effect spread within Cesare’s mind as he pushed her to the moss covered ground.

 

As if under a spell, she sank to her knees as Cesare ran his hand under her gown. His kisses grew more intense as his fingers manipulated her breast. Friar could no longer think straight; emotions boiled like hot steel in a fire. Breathlessly, she tore at the holy robe until her hands found Cesare’s flesh. She was so overwhelmed that she did not even notice how virile and sinewy he was beneath the mass of humble layers. All she knew was that she wanted to touch him and to be touched by him.

 

Sunlight spilled over the lover’s flesh, but they did not seem to notice. Their senses were lulled to the world around them.

 

Pushing Friar’s hair to one side of her neck, Cesare nuzzled at her throat causing sensations to bolt up her spine. Gently blowing a warm breath against her flesh, he purred seductive whisperings in Latin in her ear. She wasn’t sure what the words meant and it didn't matter, the manner in which he spoke them was all it took. Recklessly, she spread her legs and as if on cue Cesare knelt between them.

 

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him down on top of her kissing him with such vigor that Cesare felt competent enough to pull her dress over her head. Locking his lips to hers, he tugged at the simple garment with a desperate need to see and to taste her flesh.

 

With dawning instincts, she pushed his hands away. Cesare tried again but this time she broke free of his kiss and push against his chest as if seeing through a deceitful mist.

 

“Stop!” she hissed venomously while adjusting her garment to cover her nakedness.

 

Cesare growled “Why did you invite me if you had no intentions of satisfying me!”

 

Friar bit her lip. She had done a good job at provoking the sensual turmoil. She did realize how foolish and reckless she had been. Cesare was not like her; a virginal youth on the brink of adulthood and new to the concept of intimacy. She had heard the promiscuous rumors of the Borgian Family and knew full well that she would mean nothing to Cesare once he had enjoyed her. “I do not know. Just leave! And take your frivolous key with you!”

 

Cesare jerked his robe back into place and snared her arms thrusting her into his chest. She glared into his fathomless eyes and for the first time since he had kissed her, she was reminded of who she was dealing with. He was Cesare Borgia, one of the most dangerous men of Rome, not some peasant boy. His image was as aesthetic as a Greek God, but his character was one of malice and carnage.

 

“Please” she whimpered, her eyes swelling with tears.

 

Cesare’s demeanor sank. He released her and took a deliberate step back. “Friar, I wasn'tgoing to hurt you”

 

Too late, a single tear drop escaped and cascaded down her cheek. “Just leave, please.” Friar managed a fragile whisper before her voice choke on a sob.

 

Cesare felt like a monster as he stood in the yard watching Friar run away. Only a few minutes ago, he had held her in his arms and now she acted if she feared for her life.  _Was this how the world perceived him?_ _Did they look upon him as some demon without compassion and lacking morals?_

 

When Friar slammed the door of her simple cottage, the young Cardinal, heart painfully, turned and made his way back into the forest to find his horse.


	7. A Sudden Change of Heart

Cesare reclined with one hand resting on the table and the other supporting his forehead as if deep in thought. He paid little attention to the conversation taking place between Juan and his father; something about conspiracies. He wasn’t sure and didn’t care. He was sick of the bonds of the Papacy and the paranoia of his father. He closed his eyes, casting his mind back to the morning he had held Friar in his arms. He could still taste her in his mouth, smell her honeyed scent in his nostrils. Friar was easy to conjure as she had etched an imprint on his soul.

 

“Cesare!” Rodrigo shouted as he slammed his fist against the table.

 

Cesare jumped accidentally spilling a goblet of wine. “What father?” he growled, reaching for a cloth.

 

”I have just came back from the dead and you snap at me?”

 

“Sorry. I did not mean to, father. My mind is else where.”

 

Juan glared suspiciously at his brother and sneered as if he was silently ridiculing his brother. Childish mockery he had aggravated Cesare with since they were little boys.

 

“Well return your mind to your father, boy! Me; your father, who has an entire army of enemies seeking my blood!”

 

Cesare tossed the cloth on the table and sat straight taking in all the schemes and plots to keep Rodrigo’s enemies at bay.

 

 

 

A hand of time later, Juan and Cesare strolled down a corridor in the Vatican. Micheletto suddenly appeared from the shadows causing both of the brothers to lurch in fear.

 

“How many times have I ordered you not to do that?” barked Cesare, not in the mood for his assassin’s bizarre behavior.

 

Juan cast a smile toward Cesare’s assassin. “On edge brother?”

 

Cesare ignored Juan’s question turning his attention to Micheletto.

 

“There is a chance that one of the Vatican maids has witnessed an act that she should not have.”

 

“And what was that?” Juan asked, still eying Cesare.

 

“She might have overheard the plot to rob Cletto’s Holy War collection. ”

 

“Oh that. Yes, well that could fling my father and Cletto at odds. Better take care of it. Slit her throat and toss the body into the river.”

 

Juan started to walk away but Cesare halted him. “Murder her before we know if she even knows anything? Let us just have someone we trust question her and if suspicion falls upon her than we will take a different measure.”

 

Juan laughed “Since when have you balked at the taking of a mere peasant’s life?”

 

“The maid may have a child or an elderly mother at home; peoples whose sole welfare depends upon her.”

 

“You have worn the cloth too long. You are growing weak, brother.”

 

Cesare shattered a fist into the corridor wall. “It is not weakness to value life!”

 

“Since when is a peasant’s life consider of value? They are like animals! They do not feel as we do! They do not laugh and cry like we do! They are like a pack of wild dogs; animals whose sole purpose in life is to serve men like us.”

 

Cesare stared hard at his brother and saw in him the monster that he himself had felt like outside of Friar’s cottage. The sight sickened him. To Micheletto “Question the maid. If she is guilty, do what you have to do.”


	8. The Dangers of Rome

 The weeks dragged by with the abduction of Arlo's teenage daughter who would just be held for a little while then released but then blamed an enemy of Rodrgio's, the robbery of Nicoli's Abbey, and the mutilation Pio's favorite mistress; anything and everything to keep Rodrigo's enemies at bay even though none had made a step toward him. Rodrigo commended his sons stating that the warnings were necessary to keep his adversaries in line.

"In line" Cesare mumbled to himself as he walked the streets of Rome. "Like you keep your sons in line."

"What was that" Juan asked while raising a hand toward several hooded men who waited by the street corner.

  Cesare shook his head as Juan shot off in their direction. The hooded men were Juan's secret thugs. He was sure they had been up to something mischievous and now needed Juan to save their hides. Whatever the problem was Cesare could care less. He leaned against a shop's wall using his left foot as a brace and scanned the city's activity.

  Everywhere men and women bustled about the market, some shopping while others held out their hands beseeching handouts. A group of rambunctious children dashed across the street engrossed in a game of chase while a few stray dogs decided to join the chase by barking and zooming in between unsuspecting pedestrians. It was all quite boring until Cesare's gaze fell upon complete and utter beauty; Friar.

  She had not seen him. She has been too engrossed in a purchase of fabric. Cesare watched from a far as she made a selection of flora and paid the owner. He smiled at the way she unintentionally curled the tip of tongue to the left side of his lips as if in deep thought. She wore her hair free today. Thick wavy strains of silk bounced as she walked, hips swaying as she made her way down the busy street. How he wanted to follow her, but he knew if he did, Juan would see and that would only rekindle Juan's attention. Juan had not mentioned the witch girl since she had saved their father's life. That was a good thing because nothing good could come from Juan's attention.

  Cesare was treading toward Juan when he noticed a cloaked figure trailing Friar too closely. Within seconds the burly figure grabbed Friar from behind sweeping her into an unseen alley. Juan forgotten, Cesare withdrew his sword and raced in her direction.

"I have no coins to give you!" Friar struggled to say as the cloaked figure pressed a knife to her throat.

"It is not coins I want, little one" the man sneered.

  Just as the bandit reached for Friar's dress line, Cesare impaled his blade in from the middle of his back and out his belly with blood spitting in every direction. He moaned and fell, urine streaming from his crotch.

 Friar screamed drawing a crowd and in that crowd stood Juan.

 The burly man's lifeless body flowed with blood mingling with the dirt and trash from the city of Rome. The foul scent of intestines rose with the afternoon breeze.

  Cesare wiped the blood from his sword on the dead man's oily rags he wore. Friar had backed into the corner speechless with her eyes glued to Cesare, who only glanced at her. It seems he was about to say something but then adverted his face and walked away leaving her to face the crowd alone as if she was a stranger.

"What was that?" Juan whispered as they left the scene.

"It was nothing." 

 Juan stopped and snared Cesare's elbow. "No, it was something." Juan's lips evolved into an icy smile before walking away.


	9. Juan's Rapacious Appetite

Curtains of frosty rain fell foreshadowing summer's end. Outside of Juan's bed chamber, the wind sighed like phantoms caroling through the mist. The midnight sky was dark and gloomy as if the stars were hiding from the dreary atmosphere. But the weather was the least of Juan's concern this night.

Inside, a certain kind of fire steamed Juan's bed chamber windows. A bare woman with curves that could make a priest blush bent on all four while engaged in a forbidden frenzy. Her hair sweaty and tangled from being tossed and turned in every position imaginable. Her breasts were unusually huge and the tips of her nipples were rubbed raw from hours of friction with the bed covers. Arching her rear, she moaned lusty sobs as Juan thrust his cock inside her core. She met each thrust with a pop of feminine lips.

Juan kneeled over the woman, whom he had forgotten her name, from behind digging his fingers into the flesh of her hips as he drilled himself into her. Sweat ran down his hairless chest dripping onto the woman's back. He was drenched in perspiration, but not at all tired. Like a virile stag, he could pound this little honey blonde all night long and still desire more.

Slowing his pace, he reached for a nearby goblet of wine and in one gulp finished the contents. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the scent of sex mingled with the odor of wench's cunt. He liked that. Inhaling once more relishing the musty scent, he growled, thirsty for more. Flinging the goblet across the room, he returned to the task of pounding her from behind with hammer like blows.

He smacked the wench's rear flesh hard with the palm of his hand causing her to cry out in ecstasy. He smiled as his eyes ran over the woman's body. Her skin was caked with his dried nectar, proof of just how many times he could ejaculate and start again.

"Do you like it?" he asked with a sadist glint filling his eyes.

"Yes, my Lord!" she replied breathlessly trying to hide the fact that her knees were bleeding from being rubbed raw.

"Yes, you do" Juan muttered. A woman like that did like it rough and that was fine sometimes, but other times he wanted something different, something a little more perverse.

He grinned wickedly as immoral sexual delusions danced in his mind. Slowing his thrusts, he knelt a bit to spread her cheeks apart and spat into her cranny. Taking his finger as he rode her, he penetrated her hole to lubricate it. He felt the woman's internal muscles quiver;  _yes, she wanted it._

Juan accelerated his speed as he slipped a second finger in the harlot's ass. This time she cried out; a sultry cry that harden Juan's nipples. His cock began to ache with a desperate thirst that needed to be quenched immediately. No longer able to control his lust, Juan slipped out of well beaten threshold and impaled himself vigorously deep into the sinfully sexy woman's rear cavity. High on wine and lechery, he rammed the tight hole with an animaltality like strength.

"You like this too, don't you?"

"Yes!" she sensually purred while fingering her swollen clit.

The unyielding assault continued throughout a second thunderstorm. Finally the woman began to cry out with excitement, signaling to Juan that she about to climax. The gesture excited him more causing the head of his shaft to drip. He shoved one of her legs up so that he could watch her climax.

"YES! Oh God, yes!" the woman wailed as she tantalized herself as fast as she could. Finally a bubble of creamy moisture erupted from her throbbing lips.

Without haste, Juan wiped the essence from her folds with his fingers and crammed them into his mouth licking and sucking as if she offered the fountain of mortality.

Dropping her leg, he said thrusting and panting "Talk to me."

When the woman began to whisper salacious and raunchy sentiments, Juan ripped a fist full of her matted hair grinding his steel cock to her limits.

Finally the ravishment was becoming uncomfortable and the woman started to whimper. Juan ignored her and continued to torment her raw cunt with every ounce of strength he could muster. No longer able to bear the length of Juan's lust, she shifted forward hoping to ease the pang of his impalements.

Juan liked this new game. She had gone from a lewd whore, who could not get enough of him, to someone barely able to handle his carnality. Still pumping without restraint and tearing a grip into her hair, he jerked her body up and slipped his left hand into her cunt, forcing her body onto his hips so that she could not slip away. Cramming three fingers inside, he whacked her folds with sadistic attentions as he thrust into her clenching ass. Through the cluster of her cries and the slapping of flesh greeting flesh, he could hear the sound of her holes brewing a sloppy smacking sound reminding him that her coy was indeed a game. With her sloppy, fat pussy, she could easily take him as well as another.

The thought sickened him. Although he had nothing against an erotic orgy or a harlot that could take a good fisting, his appetite this night wanted something different. He wanted to truly make a maiden beg for mercy, to plead for him to stop running his big dick up into her tight canal. He looked down at the woman bouncing up and down on his cock.  _No, he would not get this from her. Friar; the sweet little witch girl with voluptuous curves and a tiny waist that he could encircle with two hands. Yes, Friar was who he wanted._  He imagined her tossed over his bed naked, thrashing and sobbing for him to withdraw. He closed his eyes; he could mentally conjure her virginal blood seeping down his dick. He bet her sweet pussy was small and taut with an irresistible shade of pink. Licking his lips, he could almost taste her, smell the delicious fragrance of her pussy juice.

"Juan!" the woman whimpered summoning him back to reality.

"Shut up" he growled flinging her back un to the bed on her stomach where he used his hands to bury her face into the pillows. Flattening her, he rammed her rear with all his might, thrusting with as much speed as he could render all the while imagining it was the little witch girl beneath him. Almost out of control, crushing his chest into her back desperately needing to drive the fierce passion into her belly, he bucked wildly in a quenchless despair.

"Friar" he muttered. Yes, Friar was what did it.  _Finally!_

Coming to his knees, he snarled with lust as he withdrew. Ripping a fist full of hair, he jerked the bedraggled wench from the pillows and pressed her face to his spewing cock. She opened her mouth snarling at his head like a rabid beast.

Wine intoxicating his words, Juan began to mutter filthy feminine names while stroking the length of his organ. Shivering violently, his knees almost succumbing to buckling, he conjured the outpourings of his fetish. Ripping her hair from its scalp with one hand, the other he jacked his swollen cock until he shot creamy lava in her greedy mouth.

The intimate fluid filled her mouth streaming out of her lips and down her throat where it began to dry on her breasts.

Juan collapsed, sprawling spread eagle on the bed with the nameless wench still licking his now limp dick and testicles. When she had slurp up every bit of his semen, she jump out of bed and ran to the table to fetch two more goblets of wine. Bouncing back un to the bed, she handed Juan the goblet.

Juan accepted the drink, engulfing it, and reached for the goblet she had brought for herself.

"I have something else for you to sip." He muttered huskily.

Smiling she gave him her wine. This one he sipped slowly while the little over-sexed vixen crawled over his belly placing her intimate cavern on his chest giving him a full view of her still wet core. She sank her mouth on to his limp organ determined to bring it back from slumber.

Juan took a deep breath, the woman's odor more potent than before. He felt his manhood harden.  _Yes, this was going to be a very long night and the night with little Friar would be even longer._


	10. Brothers' Brawl

The clouds gradually parted creating a peep hole allowing the glow of the morning sun to penetrate the hazy mist. " _After every storm comes the sun_ " Cesare thought as he opened his eyes to sunbeams warming his face. How many times had he heard his sister say that saying when they were children? He smiled at the thought of Lucretzia. How like his darling sister to remind him how beautiful the simple things in life were.

Yawning, he stretched popping his neck that had grew stiff during long night's slumber.  _Simple things_ , he mentally muttered turning his thoughts to Friar. He knew she thought he had feared embarrassment from the people of Rome by abandoning her as a stranger the day before. He regretted his rash actions now. She had been so frightened by the bandit only to be hurt by Cesare's neglect and she was hurt, he was sure of it by the torn look in her eyes as he fled the scene.

He smirked out loud.  _Why_   _should he care about a peasant's feelings?_  But he did care. At first he thought the attraction to Friar had only been physical. She was uniquely stunning, a rare and natural beauty for Rome. Any male who desired females in an intimate manner would yearn to sample her flawless body. But as the weeks past, he realized it was more than physical attraction that drew him to Friar. It seemed he retired for bed every night and awoke every morning with his thoughts upon her. He knew without a doubt that he held deeper feelings than physical lust plaguing him. And the truth bothered him. His position in life was only momentary, one day he planned to leave the church and seize power. The idea of Emperor was not an unrealistic goal. With his father as Pope and by the peoples' fear, there were no limits to all he could conquer. Of course Juan would stand in his way, but that was another bother for another time. Now he had to contemplate on what to do about Friar. He wanted her and until he had enjoyed her body, he would not know if his feelings were genuine.

Jumping to his feet, he called for one of the morning servants to fill his bath. First things first, he would visit Friar and make her his before he made any decisions about his heart. Of course he could not marry while serving the church and even after he left the church, he still could not and would not marry a peasant. But like his father had done to his mother as many people in power do, he could make Friar his mistress. Knowing how she regarded morality, she would balk at such a sinful notion, but he had a way with women. He would get what he wanted.

  After an energetic day of sunshine, the clouds crept back and blanketed the sky, motionless and heavy with unfallen rain. A moist wind carried the scent of a distant rain slashing through the dark forest. Friar snuggled the covers around her neck, missing the charming sounds of the hoot owls and crickets. They had often lulled her to sleep but tonight, like her, they hide from the approaching storm.

Suddenly dishearten she sighed, how pathetic that her only companions were forest dwellers. Sure people from the city and outer lying farms sometimes paid her a visit, but only when they needed something like medicine or charms, never just to say hello. But that could have changed and she had no one to blame but herself. Cesare had offered her a new home and in that home would have come a new life; a new life that would have been filled with people, a new life that included nights with Cesare. At that, she giggled softly. She vividly recalled how terrified she had been during her first encounter with the Borgian Brothers, but Cesare had made amends, he had shown her a different side of himself. He could be passionate and kind. He had tried to reward her. He had also saved her life. Sure, he had a vile reputation and she believed every word of it, that he could behave as a tyrant but she also believed there existed a good side to him, a side that he probably only revealed to those close to him. But she knew it was there, she had felt it.

She had been blessed with an internal sight, like her mother, she could read a person's soul. In Cesare, she had felt two souls; one good, the other evil. It was up to him which one conquered the other. But his brother Juan was a different story, she had only sensed one and that one was utter evil. There was no help for Juan. He had hurt many in his young life and before his time was finished upon this earth, he would cause much more pain and heartbreak for many. Juan was his own worst enemy; he would lead to his own demise. People like that always did.

The twisting of a branch caused Friar's senses to pounce. Normally, such night sounds did not bother her as the woods were full of night creatures who hunted and played at night, but whoever made that sound was not an animal, it was human. The storm had frightened all the wildlife into hiding. Only human beings ignored the warnings of Mother Nature and ventured into the dangers of stormy nights.

Jumping to her feet, she wrapped her chilled body in a robe and blew out the candle so that who ever was out there could not see her silhouette through the curtains.

"There is no use in hiding from me, little witchy. I know that you are in there."

Friar's heart sank like an anchor instantly recognizing the voice;  _Juan Borgia!_

She froze knowing that her lock would not keep him out if he wanted to get in. He had already proved that.

"Why must you make me do these things?" Juan growled and kicked the lock off the door and entered. Friar screamed and ran behind a chair extending a fire poker as a weapon.

"Leave!" she hissed, careful to keep her voice from reflecting fear. Men like Juan thrived on fear. 

Juan slammed the door. Smiling condescendingly, he scanned Friar's upper body. Ringlets spiraled down to her waist, her eyes sparkled with fear; she was breathtaking.

"Why must we play these games?"

Griping the poker with such fierce hostility that her fingers had beamed red, she snapped back "I am not playing a game with you. If you come near me, I will kill you."

Juan burst in a deep sarcastic laughter as if she had said something hilarious. Eyeing her overly full lips, he snapped, "That is what I want. I want you to fight me!"

Before she could react, he lunged at her. She slung the poker as hard as she could, but he caught it in mid-swing and ripped it from her hands, flinging the iron object across the cottage. Shoving the chair into his groin, she tried to flee but was not fast enough. He caught her, slapped her in the face, and then caught her fall before she hit the floor. With adrenalin strength, he tossed her on the bed and straddled her.

Friar flayed and raked her nails against the assault as best she could. Juan was more agile and a lot bigger than she. Juan laughed during the chauvinist pursuit. She was doing exactly what he wanted. When he grew tired of the game, he seized her hands and pinned them above her head.

Friar's reflection grew murderous. Mentally, she cursed him. He was going to rape her and there was nothing she could do about it. Even afterwards, there was nothing she could do about the crime. She had no rights against a man like Juan. He could do anything to her and no one would care or punish him.

Juan captured her eyes and held her glare. Her eyes were wide spitting with anger, her lips in a childish pout. Darkly amused, he lowered his face and inhaled her fresh scent. She had probably just bathe and her intimate threshold would be just as clean. Smiling perversely, he had a cure for that, before the end of the night she would be so full of his male nectar that she would not be able to free herself of his odor for days.

"I am going to hurt you. You know that, don't you?"

Friar turned her face away, refusing to look into the devil's eyes. Feeling degraded and worthless, tears glistened in the corner of her eyes. There was no hope now. What would happen would happen and fighting him would only aroused him. She could feel his manhood pressing against her crotch. He was large and fully erect; he would tear her into shreds and enjoy every minute of her agony. He wasn't like Cesare, he did not desire mutual ecstasy, he lusted for her pain. Then suddenly realization hit her; _Cesare!_

"You cannot hurt me as much as your brother did."

Friar's heart jolted with joy as Juan's smile melted. She even felt his organ soften a bit.

"What do you mean?"

Defiance filled her eyes, a cunning smile tugged at her lips as she replied in a jeer, "Cesare came here a few days back and he took me. At first, I fought him and then I could not fight my own lust, I took him just as primitive as he took me."

An atrocious expression blanketed Juan's face, snarling like a mad dog, he backhanded her repeatedly.

"Bitch! Whore! Slut!" he bellowed, rage gleaming in his eyes.

Friar felt her neck pop, but that was nothing compared to the sting of her facial flesh. Despite the physical pain, her inner self smiled, she had torn the joy from Juan's assault. He was still going to rape her, she had no doubt, but now he would not enjoy it as much.

"Friar!" Cesare shouted from the distance. Juan stopped and listened. They could hear his horse reining in. He had probably found Juan's horse in the forest and began to call for Friar knowing that his brother was lurking nearby.

Friar peered deep into Juan's eyes and smiled. "He won't let you rape me now."

Juan shook his head, but she could tell that he was not sure of himself. "He wont help you. My brother will not go against his own for the sake of a peasant slut. Instead, he will join me and we will rip you into pieces so that no man will even be able to make use of your cunt!"

Juan ripped open her robe, tearing the front of her nightgown open.

Gallant as a knight, Cesare kicked the door open thinking there was a lock still on it. He lunged in and plowed into Juan, knocking him from the bed and on to the floor.

Friar leaped to her feet and backed into a corner trying to cover her breast with the torn nightwear as the brothers brawled in her floor. She yipped when they began to smash into her furnishings and break things that had been in her family for generations.

Now panting and sweating, Juan shoved Cesare backwards and spat blood from his mouth. "For a whore you turn on your own blood!"

Cesare fisted Juan back to the ground and spat "For myself! You done this! You only want her because I want her!"

Juan lurched at him and once more the brothers thrashed and finished tearing Friar's tiny cottage to pieces. Finally, Juan had had enough and singled for surrender. Cesare released him. For a few minutes that seemed like eternity to Friar, Juan used his hands against the cottage wall to support his body weight and tried to catch his breath. Finally, he rose and walked toward the door, over his shoulder he grunted, "You can have her for the time being…"

Friar stepped forward after Juan disappeared into the foggy night. "What did he mean  _for the time being_?"

Cesare knew full well what his malicious brother had implied. Lying, he smiled, "Nothing. He was just blowing off steam. It is over now. No harm will come to you."

He fell into a chair as if extremely tired making Friar feel shallow for being only concern with her own welfare when he was bruised and bleeding on her behalf. She rushed to his side with a cloth and dabbed at his wounds. "I am sorry. Are you hurt?"

As if to answer her question, he chuckled. "No, my love, I have endured worse."

Friar finished clearing his wounds and asked "My love? Only a yesterday you did not know me?"

"No more games between you and me." Cesare now sounding serious as he pulled her into his lap. "I panicked in the market not because of the peoples' opinion of me, but because I did not want Juan to know of your value to me. As you can see from what just happened why I would not want him to know."

"I am sorry for my words and misinterpretation. I understand and I thank you for saving me twice now. I am most grateful."

Cautiously, she bent her head and softly kissed his lips as a child would kiss their father. He smiled enchanted by her puerile nature.

"Your brother had said that to me. He said no more games as if I wanted him."

"My brother thinks every woman, and even some men, desire him." Cesare joked. "But my implication is the truth. I want you and you want me."

Friar suddenly feared the seriousness in the direction of the conversation and bashfully glance away afraid to meet his eyes.

Cesare turned her face back to him. "Do not fear me."

"I do not want to be made a whore."

Cesare sighed. "I will not lie to you. I cannot marry you. I cannot promise you the moon and the stars either. I can have any woman I want. You are a smart girl, Friar, you know this. When I say I want you and only you, I mean it. I can put you in a mansion, a castle even. I will be with you ever chance I get. Even without a marriage, you will be mine in every way."

Friar's heart began to pound in her ears with a whirl of confusion fogging her mind. "Thank you for being honest. I respect that but I am overwhelmed. I feel one way, but my mind tells me to ignore my heart's emotions. I just do not know what to do or how to feel. You threatened to burn me at the stake once and now you want me to banish my pride and become your mistress."

Cesare kissed her lips softly and then again on her forehead. "Do not decide tonight, not after what you have been through. Go to your bed and sleep. Rest peacefully knowing that I will be in this chair protecting you as you sleep."

Friar stood and started to walk away, but stopped and pulled Cesare from the chair.

"Rest with me."

Cesare gladly accepted her invitation. He held her all through the night, but nothing more. This night she needed to think, not be influenced to a decision based on love making.


	11. The Backbone

 

Cesare could hear the door open as he reclined reading a proposal from the northern missions. He knew without a doubt that the untimely intruder was Juan, only he would dare to enter without knocking. Without even a glance, he said in a bright cheerful voice, "Still mad?"

Juan gritted his teeth, it irked him that his brother had expected him as if he had known that he had laid awake all night waiting for Cesare to come home and when he had not, he woke early and raced to the Vatican to continue last night's dilemma. It irked him because that was exactly what Juan had done. He had barely slept. He had tossed and turned pondering every way to get back at his brother for taking Friar to his heart.

It was not that Juan care for Friar, he didn't. She was a peasant and worthless in his eyes. It was the fact that Juan had wanted to bed Friar since he has first laid eyes upon her but Cesare had prevented him from doing so and ended up bedding her himself.

Cesare glanced from his papers and smiled. "What is it brother, speechless for the first time?"

Anger flushed Juan's face.  _How like Cesare to read him as if his eyes were open windows to his soul._ He was beginning to wonder if the rumor of Cesare's devil insight was more than a rumor _._ Trying to remain calm, Juan mustered a voice, "I am not angry brother, I am concerned; concerned for you. I fear this witch girl had cast a spell upon your good sense."

Cesare rolled his eyes and tossed the papers on his desk. "Perhaps it is you that she has hexed for it is you that cannot stop thinking about her.

"Cesare, this is no joke! I see in you a change; a change for the worse. You have turned on your on blood. You are not handling matters of the church responsible…"

Cesare cut him off, "If you are referring to the Vatican maid than she has nothing to do with Friar. I do not so easily condemn a person, especially a woman, to death without proof and we lacked evidence of her guilt. I am not like you Juan."

"As I said, you are not handling matter efficiently. I had the maid questioned and she admitted to ease dropping. Her body was found in the river just this morning."

Cesare adverted his eyes.  _Didn't he see this particular maid in the market once with a baby to her bosom?_ Now that child was without a mother and motherless child usually did not survive the harsh everyday life of Rome for long.

Juan grinned, noting Cesare's displeasure. "Does her death bother you?"

Cesare tried to brush his brother off by picking up the papers and glancing through them as he spoke, "Not at all, it was what I would have ordered. Now be gone. I have important work to do today."

"We are not finished talking. We still have the matter of the witch."

Cesare's eyes darted from the papers back to Juan "There is no matter of Friar in which needs discussing" his voice icy.

"Listen to yourself. I cannot even mention her without you ready to pounce. She has witched you!"

Tossing the papers down, Cesare sprung from his feet "You know she is no witch! You are trying to instigate deception to hurt her because she chose me! You are jealous and this is your way of lashing out!"

"I could care less about some worthless peasant wench! There is nothing to be jealous of!"

"You are jealous of me, not her. You already have everything and yet you want everything of mine as well! This has nothing to do with Friar, this is about me!"

Juan snapped "You have nothing to be jealous of! You are nothing but a pantywaist churchman! Father granted me the arms because I am his only son man enough to wear them!"

Cesare growled as he plunged into Juan, but Juan was prepared for the ambush and met him full-force. Neither being able to drop the footing of the other, they wrestled like school boys knocking over furnishings and grunting insults at each other until a passing cleric overheard the rumble and sent for their father.

The Pope was furious when he found his sons fighting like common peasant in a tavern. Ascending supremacy, he held his hands up and ordered his children to cease. Reluctantly, they release the grip they held on one another and refused to look into their scolding father's glare. "What is going on here?" He asked in commanding voice.

"Cesare is bewitched.." Juan started, but was unable to finish as Cesare plowed into him knocking him to the floor. Before Cesare could topple him, Rodrigo gripped Cesare's hand and popped him in the head. Cesare backed up as if the devil himself had reached up from hell and stroked him.

Juan had just made it on his feet when Rodrigo turned on him and smacked him on his forehead.

The Pope leered at his sons who glared at one another with hate and rage mingling as one. "Enough of this! You are behaving like children. Tell me what this is about."

Cesare glanced away. Juan smiled wickedly and replied "A woman; a witch woman. She has bewitched my brother and turned him against me as a way of tearing our family apart."

"You mean the peasant girl who treated me? "

Juan nodded at his father, "Yes."

At this the Pope bellowed as if he had been slapped in the face. "A worthless peasant wench has done this to my sons? You tear at each other's throats over a mere peasant?"

This time Juan glanced away and it was Cesare who answered. "She is not worthless and she has not cast a spell."

The Pope's expression grew stern, "There is something more here, a lot more than some wench."

When the brothers refused to meet his gaze, he raised his voice in anger. "I will not have this family are war among each other. I have witnessed too many kingdoms torn apart by feuding brothers and I will not allow anything to dampen our rein!"

The brothers remained silent.

The Pope placed his hands upon his hips and stalked a circle around the brothers in silence as if pondering their punishment. "I will have this witch burned at the stake if you two can not turn away from her and put an end to this childish nonsense!"

Juan chuckled, glaring at Cesare who began to shiver with anger. "You would execute the one who brought you back from the dead?" Cesare asked in a disbelieving tone.

The Pope placed a hand upon Cesare's shoulder. "She did not revive my soul, only God can perform such acts! He just utilized her hands."

Cesare shoved his father's hand away. "Unbelievable!"

Rodrigo snared Cesare arms and shook him like one would do a misbehaving child. "End this now or I will light her on fire!" he captured Cesare's eyes for a moment before releasing him and marching out of the room.

Juan took a few steps to follow than stopped and held Cesare's glare and hissed "This is only the beginning."

Cesare smiled dryly, "You are right dear brother, it is."

At those words Juan felt a sudden flush of fear. This was not the brother he had grown up with. For the first time in his adult life he had shown some backbone toward his elder brother. Juan had never viewed Cesare as a threat until now.


	12. The Price of Being a Borgia

 

 

Night beckoned as emerging stars filled the darkening sky. Cesare’s stomach was still in knots as he made his way down the Vatican’s stairway.  _Why did Juan have to ruin everything?_  Even as a child his older brother seemed to always manage to take everything fun from his life whether it had been a new toy or a special celebration in Cesare’s honor.

 

“Cesare” a soft voice call from behind the stable door.

 

Cesare’s bad mood melted knowing the voice belonged to sweet Friar. She emerged from the shadows into the light illuminating the saintly white dress she wore. The lights flickered against the cloth as if revealing a hidden angel’s halo. “I was just about to visit you. I had a late day at work today.”

 

Friar did not return the smile instead her face cast a reflection of somber sorrow. “I know and that is why I came to meet you. If we were alone in my cottage at night this would be difficult to say. It is better said here.”

 

Cesare felt his insides turn watery. He did not want this. A creeping uncompassionate gloom filled his soul dreading the words he knew that were to come.

 

“I care for you deeply but I must decline your proposal. I cannot become your mistress. We must end everything.”

 

With his heart slamming into his chest, Cesare said “I feared you would decide this and although I wish you would change your mind, I will not abase myself to begging you but know my offer will stand until I cease to breathe.”

 

 

 

“You are a good man Cesare Borgia”

 

His dark eyes grew hollow, “I am not. I am not the man that I could be. I am a Borgia. My role in life prevents that. I am my father’s puppet. He controls my destiny as well as my fate. ”

 

“Do not let him.”

 

Cesare smirked but not in a sarcastic manner, “You and I both know that we must obey the way the world is written. I am my father’s son. I have no choice but become the man he has molded me to be. But that is out there in front of the people and inside the Vatican, behind walls with you I can be my true self. I can love you as you should be loved.”

 

 

Friar determined body gave in to the shivers that raced up her spine. She knew if she stayed in Cesare’s presence much longer that she would give in to the pleads of her heart. She turned to leave but as she turned, Cesare call out. “Do you need anything? Anything at all?”

 

 

She wanted to sob  _out Yes, I need to be loved. I need human compassion. I want someone to cook for, someone to tend a garden with, someone to dine beside at night, and someone to laugh and to cry with._  Cesare stood before her wearing the robes of God, a hand extended, his handsome face filled with sadness. His fathomless eyes peering into hers as if he could read her thoughts. He was the son of the Pope. He was not some plow boy who would yield the harvest beside her. The only thing he could offer her was a regal home filled with servants and an occasional night in his arms when he was able to break away from the church. No, Cesare could not give her what her heart truly desired. Tears blooming in her eyes even after she had warned herself not to cry, she said the only thing that she could say “You must not love me, Cesare.”

 

Cesare fought the urge to scoop her up and flood her with kisses as she turned and faded back into the shadows. “It is too late for that.” Cesare whispered long after she had fled. His heart had fallen to her long ago.

 

 

A hand of time later, Friar sank into her bed crying to release the agony from her torn heart. Anguish washed through her veins leaving her raw with contempt. She abhorred the concept of society! She hated the unwritten rules that society had placed upon the poor. The man she loved could not honor her because she was a peasant. He would succumb to greed and beg at the mercy of power. They could never truly be together in body and soul even if she had agreed to become his mistress.

 

She cast her mind back to when he had asked her if she needed anything and the answer that she so desperately wanted to shout. She glanced around her meager cottage; a small hearth with an iron kettle, a sack of flour in the corner, a collection of dried herbs in an array of hand-weaved baskets, and a jar of autumn flowers that she had picked just that morning. She had everything that she needed right here. Her life was simple and therefore her love must be simple as well. Cesare would never be happy in a place like this. He would want more and more. And her wildest dream was to own a farm of her own somewhere far from the city, but that was a mere dream for another time, perhaps when she found a man to marry.

 

The thought of marriage caused her tears to thicken. Cesare was the only man who filled her heart. She could not imagine ever loving another, nor could she imagine another loving her. She was stained with her mother’s curse; she was the daughter of a witch.

 

Fighting the pangs of regret, she tried to make sense of what she had done. She had made the hardest decision of her life this day. She had chosen between love and reality and the most realistic one won. Although now she regretted her decision to withdraw from the relationship with Cesare, in time she would be glad that she had utilized good judgment. A life with Cesare was sure to end in tragedy. She felt numb inside and out, but sought refugee in the fact that all feelings lessened with time. The grief in her heart was sure to pass. Drowsy from the depths of heartbreak, she settled in a dreamless rest.

 

In another section of Rome, Cesare sat in front of his window, his eyes glaring at the waning of the moon, his mind hollow and lifeless. This was to be the rest of his life. In time his pain for Friar would diminish leaving room for another to take her place, but even then it would be the same. Juan would resent his happiness as his father would continue to control his life. He could never marry as long as he wore a clerical skirt. As long as he was a Borgia, his fate was written and he would be forever a Borgia _. Yes, this hollow despair was to be the rest of his life._ In the end, he prayed it would all be worth it.

 

 

My midday Cesare felt as if he was suffocating from the madness that lurched in every corner of the Vatican. His head ached and he felt as if his entire body was about to explode. He had risen at dawn from a sleepless night to attend a meeting with Juan and his father. There he had debated vehemently against the murder of Arlo’s daughter. Her entire abduction was schemed to gain some extra loot and as a veiled warning to her father to choose his friends carefully. After Arlo paid the handsome ransom, she was to be released into her father’s custody, but it seemed that Juan and Rodrigo had decided this merciful tactic reflected weakness on their part and ordered her to be strangled later this evening. Cesare accused his father of behaving like a barbaric monarch which only increased the tension between them.

 

After the blood heating meeting, Cesare had thrown on his holy garb to cite the morning blessing. To make matters worse, Arlo appeared in the center of the sermon and openly accused the Borgian Family of kidnapping his daughter. Now there was absolutely no way to prevent his daughter’s death. Regardless of Cesare’s pleads, Rodrigo would see her murdered now as punishment for Arlo’s reckless behavior.

 

Cesare sucked in his bottom lip as he stomped his way down the Vatican stairway toward his father’s chambers. How disappointed Friar would be of him if she got wind of the young teenager’s needless death. It panged him to admit it, but Friar was truly better off without him.

 

He stopped suddenly, his keen senses spying whispered voices from the other side of his father’s door. Taking care to tread with soft strides, he held his breath trying to overhear the hushed conversation between Juan and his father, but he was too late. Juan smiled revealing the maliciousness in his nature as he opened Rodrigo’s door. “I warned you brother that you would not have her long.” Juan heinously purred.

 

Before Cesare could question his brother, he heard his father call from beyond the door way.  Juan sneered cocky at Cesare as he slammed the door.

 

 

“Sit son, I have words for you.”

 

Cesare obeyed.

 

Rodrigo wore only a white robe. His face was flushed from the chaotic morning events. It seemed his father was in the mood for teaching lessons. Arlo had been first priority and now it was Cesare’s turn.

 

“Do you love me?”

 

“Yes, Holy Father.”

 

“No, not as your Pope but as your birth father?”

 

“Yes, as I love myself.”

 

“Do you love your brother?”

 

A sense of dread warmed Cesare’s veins. “I would kill for him.” He said knowing that something sinister lurked within his father’s thoughts.

 

“Love is patient and is kind, yet you have not bestowed either toward Juan.”

 

Cesare glanced away as the Pope continued, “Love is not arrogant or rude as you have reflected upon me.”

“I apologize…”

 

“Do not speak. You will listen. Blood is thicker than water. If you love your family you will do whatever it takes to keep peace between them. If you love your father, you will obey him as he commands. Now I ask you Cesare, do you love me? Will you obey my wishes?”

 

Bowing his head as if ashamed of himself, “Yes Father, I will.”

 

Shinning with victory the Pope withdrew a stone handle dagger and laid it on the table in front of Cesare. “Then you know what you must do. She has caused a rift in our family. Cesare, you must put an end to this rift. ”

 

As realization set in, Cesare glanced up suddenly shattered. Fighting the urge to vomit, he yipped revealing the pain in his soul “Father! I…”

 

The Pope cut his son’s words off. “Do you know why Juan leads the Papal Army while you wear the robe? It is because Juan has always obeyed my wishes and by me he has advanced to power. Constantly, you remind me of your own thirst for such power, yet you fail me as you always have since you were a child.”

 

Giving Cesare time to grasp his words, he withdrew a chair across from Cesare and sat down. Radiating a cunning glow, Rodrigo slowly pushed the dagger across the table in Cesare’s direction. “You want such power son?”

 

Cesare glared into his father’s eyes as if piercing into his soul. The pope’s refection was emotionless, his eyes flashing a deadly warning. Cesare’s eyes fell to the dagger and in a ferocious motion he lunged to his feet wrenching the dagger causing his chair to fall to the floor. Without a glance at the fallen chair, he marched away.

 

The pope watched as his son slammed the door, he smiled shrewdly and reclined in his comfy chair taking pride in his control over his sons.


	13. The Punishment

No longer donning the robes of a Cardinal, dressed in an assassin's black hooded cloak with matching leather pants, Cesare crept through the forest toward Friar's lone cottage. Shielded from sight, hidden behind moss-covered branches, the young Cardinal leered sadistically at the petite maiden as she made her way toward the cottage from the river's edge. She wore only a bath robe, her hair sparkling with water droplets, she must have just bathed. With the dagger hidden beneath his cloak, Cesare clenched his fists in anticipation _; this had to be done._  No matter how much her loss would grieve his heart, he had to do this or forsake his father and nobody forsakes Pope Alexander VI.

He watched Friar as she closed the cottage door. He swallowed hard,  _it was time._  Like a panther stalking his prey, he tread feline-like strides to his unsuspecting victim's door. Turning the door knob he smiled, it was unlocked.

"Cesare?" Friar called out with surprise as the hooded figure glided in unheard. Slowly, he revealed his face without speaking a word. Friar overlooked his dark behavior and innocently beamed up at him puzzled.  _Why would he come to her when she had pacifically stated that they could no longer see each other?_

Easing slow forbidding steps toward Friar, he smiled as if darkly amused by her pure reflection.  _She had no idea._

As if sensing danger, Friar took a deliberate step backwards, peering into the intruder's eyes with a questioning glint.

Cesare loomed over Friar soaking up her enchanting beauty. Her pastel lips glimmered against her dark flesh, moist stands of hair cascaded about her shapely body, inhaling, he relished her freshly washed scent. She gleamed of sheer innocence. The look upon her face was a mixture of confusion and timidly growing fear. She wanted him yet the thought of him claiming her, frightened her. Reading her thoughts aroused him; her desire mingled with fear, tempted him almost beyond self-control.  _It was time for her to know the real Cesare Borgia._

No longer possessing the will to fight the immortal flames of youth, Cesare crushed Friar to his chest, devouring her lips, face, and neck. The desire for fornicated-lust pounded through his veins masking his unveiled plans into engulfing passion.

Cesare poured his love over Friar's flesh, devouring any doubts that their forbidden relationship was wrong. Friar tried fervently to match the strength in his kiss. She desperately wanted him to know how her body ached for his touch. Reality fled her mind. She could no longer resist temptation, bowing to her lust. It might not last long, but for once in her life she would live for the moment.

"Cesare!" her voice between a purr and a growl as she tugged her lover toward the bed. Tonight she would know what it was like to be a woman beneath the passion of one of the most unrighteous, powerful men of Rome. Tomorrow, she was sure to harvest regret but not now, not this explicit night.

He complied by lifting her petite body into his muscular arms and gently laying her across the bed where he untied the dainty strings that bind her robe together. Perfect shaped breasts spilled into his hands as he flung the robe to the floor. Cesare marveled at the dark shade of her nipples; Juan was right, she was bewitching and he eagerly dived under her spell. He lowered his head to her breast while she nuzzled his sleek locks to the side of his face so that she could witness the admiration in his eyes. Cesare hesitated long enough to reassure her with a smile. He did not want to frighten her like the last time.

Friar met his gaze with compelling emotions. "I want you Cesare. I want you more than I have ever wanted anything." She kissed him softly and said "I know it is wrong but I want you." This time she kissed him fiercely burying her tongue into the core of his mouth.

Cesare whispered slyly "It isn't wrong" between kisses.

Impatiently, Friar tore at his clothing until her lips greeted his chest flesh. His chest was thick with muscle and completely hairless. She flicked her tongue over his nipples making him erect with suffocating desire. As her mouth made love to his chest and throat, he coaxed her hand to his genitals. She eagerly freed him from the leather barrier and stoked his massive length. She released an astonished intake of breath from the discovery of his size, making Cesare chuckle huskily. "Not going to back out now are you?"

Friar nipped at his nose and with a teasing gesture. shook her no with a slight giggle.

"Good" Cesare said dryly as he pushed her to the bed. Parting her legs, he caressed her moist feminine folds while suckling her breasts. Friar was not some tavern wench, he desired mutual ecstasy. He knew that she was inexperienced and the first time would be painful for her. but he also knew that pleasure overcame pain. She moaned when he thrust a finger into her. Cesare smiled, this was exactly what he wanted. Her physical need would overwhelm any pain he might render.

Cesare looked at Friar's nipples; they had turned purplish from the pressure of his lips. He spat a bit of saliva onto the taut tip of her breast then spun slippery circles around the edges with his tongue. He could feel her intimate muscles clinching with desirable anticipation. The alluring act caused him to bite at her nipples a bit harder than he had meant to. How easily this provocative siren could make him lose control.

Cesare did not even have to glance at Friar to make sure he had not hurt her, the lusty whimpers and the arching of her hips divulged that she wanted him to consume her. It was tempting, but not yet. If he was to give in and take her now, the spell of passion would break too easily and he needed for her to hold out until his lust had been quenched. Instead of submitting to the sensual invitation of her thrusting hips, he began vigorously flicking his thumb against her clit while seeking moisture from the inside of her core with his other finger. He spread the silky mist around her folds saturating her entrance. He nibbled from her nipples and up her throat to her mouth and with a sudden motion he buried his tongue inside her mouth while sliding a second finger inside her. This time she cried out and began rocking her hips in deep potent thrusts making him hunger for her with primitive desire.

Cesare's erection evolved into a delirious thirst. She was innocent; she had no idea what her salacious actions was doing to him. He needed to take her gentle the first time, but her carnality behavior was making it difficult to perform with gentility. She was virginal and did not realize that a man, if teased enough, could succumb to uncontrollable realms of ecstasy and end up hurting the very one he loves. The reckless maiden was playing with fire. Cesare slowed the tantalization her pulsating clit to keep her from climaxing and spread his fingers that were inside of her apart to ready her entrance for him. He was going to have to widen her before he surrendered to rapture.

Friar had drifted into ecstasy, her mind whirling with images of Cesare thrusting himself deep inside of her. Her womb tingled, her nipples throbbed painfully. The foreplay had been too intoxicating; it had pushed her to the verge of erotic insanity. No longer able to bear the pulsating desire that physically tormented her body, she wrapped her arms around Cesare's hips pleading with him to fill her emptiness. She raked her nails down his back demanding that he put an end to her yearning agony.

Cesare snarled a lusty growl, withdrew his fingers from her cunt and spread her legs wider as he lowered his hips to fit her. He rubbed his throbbing cock against her entrance saturating it with her silky moisture. Using the head of his cock, he continued manipulating her erect button faster, almost to the point of climax. When her stomach muscles began to rippled and she began to thrash her head, he knew she was about to erupt.

Instead of allowing her to climax, he dropped to his knees pressing his lips hard over her mouth and thrust himself into her wet entrance. She tore free from his mouth, unintentionally thrusting her hands to halt him against his chest, sobbing out from sudden pain. Irritated that he was not all the way in, he used his free hand to grip her hair, forcing her to tilt her head as he bit into her neck, and in one powerful deep thrust, he plunged deep into her belly, tearing though her virginal barrier.

Digging her nails into his flesh, she cried out a second time. Cesare did not move allowing her tunnel to adjust to his size. To keep her quiet, he suckled her mouth hoping to lure her back under his spell. He breathed savagely fighting the sensation of her clenching pussy muscles, trying to allow her time to adjust to his size. He had planned to drive a soft rhythm. not allowing his full length to penetrate her. until she was ready to accept all of his manhood. It was one of the many irritations of taking virgins. Had she had been some maid or noble's daughter out for a good time, he would not have cared. He would have devoured her innocence without a second thought, but this was different. She was different.

"Keep your legs spread" Cesare grumbled, trying to fight the urge to drive his throbbing dick in and out of her without restraint. He remained motionless using his arm as a brace to lift his body so that his fingers could fondle her clit. "I can make you forget the pain and feel good again" he muttered, lowering his mouth to her breast he gripped a taut nipple firmly between his teeth, flicking his tongue back and forth.

At first Friar's nipple hurt from the pressure of Cesare's bite, but as he continued to manipulate his tongue, sensational vibes spread a flowing heat into the pit of her stomach. She could feel her threshold growing milky from the quivering excitement to her clit. The painful swell in her canal begun to lessen as Cesare worked his sensual talents rendering a narcotic-like effect. Friar's senses seemed to drift in and out of reality, the pain forgotten, her desire furious to be quelled.

Friar surprised Cesare when she began to rock her hips, cupping her hands around his waist to mock his rhythm. He complied, but not as hard as her body enticed him to. Not allowing his full length to penetrate her, he took her in a sensuous wave while still playing her clit.

"Cesare!" she cried out as she raked her nails down the flesh of his back. Cesare warned "Enough or you are going to make me hurt you." He had hoped that she understood and did not mistake his statement as intentional pain. Her erotic pleads mingled with the tightness of her virginal grip were driving him to the point of madness. He was not sure how much longer he could bear her writhing and grinding against his cock trying to force him to drive deeper, begging him to break his yield. If he was to give in for just one moment he feared he would sink to the point of no return. He had a habit of blanking out until he was satisfied and he feared his satisfaction would break her.

She strangled a fierce tide of emotions that welled within her. She had never thought that anything could feel so good. It was wonderful, but she felt as if she would burst if something more did not happen. She wasn't sure what she wanted but she knew that Cesare knew what she needed, what her body pleaded for.  _Why was he holding out?_

Cesare looked down in the pout upon her lips and decided that he had withheld long enough. She cried out for more as his gentle thrusts turned into deep impaling rams. Cesare demeanor turned arrogant relishing the fact that he had turned a coy virgin into a cock-greedy temptress.

Most virgins dried after impalement, but this one didn't, instead her moisture flourished heating his desire. The deeper he plunged, the more she seemed to enjoy it. The harder he thrust, the deeper she dug her nails into his flesh. Without a doubt, he knew that she had made him bleed. The thought turned his lips into a sneer because he knew he had surely caused her to bleed somewhere else.

Cesare removed his fingers from her clit and said "Now get that feeling back off of my dick."

Friar violently met his thrusts. Cesare liked that. She was a fast learner. After working for some time into a breathless frenzy, her body began to shiver and her ears rang from the hot blood rushing to her brain. Sliding her hands down his back, she gripped his hips to halt his rapid thrust and began to grind deep unto him until he was fully buried in her core.

He allowed her to lead and rendered a slow, deep grinding motion. "Open your mouth" he gritted between his teeth.

She obeyed and continued to grind as deep as she could as Cesare flicked his tongue in a licking motion against her lips without closing his mouth over hers _. This was different; a sort of new erotic game_. Friar could picture a mental image of what they must have looked like branding their tongues together and the image seemed a bit obscene. The feeling excited her causing her to imitate the gesture. She could taste his warm saliva and with the fetishistic sounds of their licking tongues, her mind whirled into a blinding whirl of erotica.

Quaking and moaning, pussy muscles clenching, she cupped her hands hard around his firm  buttocks burying him deep inside of her until she climaxed with a spasm. Cesare moaned loudly feeling her searing nectar seeping from her pulsating cunt.

Cesare seized her hands, pinning them above her head as he slammed brutal thrusts into her, riding her with such force that Friar had to struggle to keep her breath from being knocked out of her lungs. The lustful assault did not last long, Cesare cried out as he expelled a bout of hot semen into her core.

Collapsing sideways, he pulled her on top of him with his weeping dick still inside her. The lovers quelled until their breathlessness turned into a soothing draw.

The room reeked of sex. Day had turned into night as the lovers lay entangled in the fluids of passion. Every muscle in Cesare's body ached with weariness, but that was nothing compared to Friar's bedraggled appearance, even in her momentary disarray he found her appealing for nothing could drive out the emotional attachment that had left his heart spellbound which only made what he had to do that much harder. Cesare smiled smugly as he gripped a hand full of hair and drew her mouth to accept his. He would think about that after she had sated his need again and again.

After a series of gentle kisses their breathing increased, their desire replenished. Friar moaned encouraging utters as she felt Cesare grow erect inside of her. Cupping her moon-shaped buttocks, he forced her into a sitting position with his erect shaft buried inside of her. He taught her to ride him. Afterwards, he flopped her over the edge of the bed and pump until every bit of his male nectar had been expelled. When he could no longer muster not even drop of essence, he snuggled her naked body into a cuddly embrace and drifted into a satisfied slumber.

Friar fell into a deep sleep, her body and soul soothed by Cesare's affectionate embrace. She had feared that once he had had her that he would toss her aside, but the fervor in his heart radiated making it clear that she belonged with him.

Sometime during the night, she had thought she had heard Cesare whisper "I am sorry, my love, for this cruel thing must be done." But it must have been a dream; surely the man who had bore such love upon her flesh would never render anything of cruelty upon her.

Around dawn sunbeams kissed the sleep from Friar's eyes as she sat up in bed. She glanced around to find that her lover was nowhere to be seen. Cocking her ear, she had thought that she had heard a horse's whinny traveling on the crispy breeze outside. She felt a sudden relief wash over her, Cesare must have gone to care for his mare and would return.

Friar yawned and was about to lay back down to wait for him when the door was ripped from its hinges by two darkly cloaked figures. She screamed and tried to flee, but the pair caught her with hands of steel and covered her face with a flour sack.

Friar screamed for Cesare over and over with a terrified voice full of anguish. Cesare closed his eyes as the tears burned his vision. He buried his head into the coarse bark of an oak tree outside her cottage, the agony of her voice casting daggers into his soul. He could already smell the smoke from her cottage set afire. "I am sorry my love" he whispered to the breeze "for this had to be done."


	14. One More Night

 

From the balcony, Cesare peered up at the moon, its glow casting a silvery mist over the gardens below. Beneath the cold glare of the moon, an owl sobbed imitating ghostly howls that seemed to haunt his hallow heart. It had been weeks since he had heard Friar's desperate pleads for help, but her voice had imprinted upon his soul making him relive the terror of that morning night after night.

"Are you thinking of what it would be like to journey to the moon again brother?" Lucretiza asked as she approached from the double doors that opened to the balcony. Tonight she wore a soft candy-pink shade reminding Cesare of just how sweet his dear sister was inside and out.

"Yes, my love"

"Again you spin a fib." She said as she crawled up to sit on the ledge to face her brother. "You look grieved; please tell me what ails my brother's thoughts?"

"My heart… Love."

"But love does not cause pain. It is a joyful feeling."

"Only when it is forbidden and cannot be pursued does love inflict pain."

"Is this forbidden love that you speak of the reason for the rift between you and Juan?"

"No" Cesare breathed an almost laugh. "The rift between my brother and I was born in infancy. My beloved Friar was just a pawn in the battle."

"Her name is Friar, like the holy order? What a beautiful name!" Lucretzia beamed up with puerility until she caught a glimmer of the heartbreak in her brother's usually well-hidden reflection. Lucretzia had only knew the witch girl by "witch girl", not Friar.

"She has a beautiful soul. She made me a better man." He said in a voice etched of a tarnished heart.

"But brother you have always been a good man."

Cesare turned Lucretzia's chin so that he could peer into her eyes. They were like open doors. In them he saw a lie, a reflection of a chivalrous spirit and he was far from that. He had spread a fever of deceit and wickedness for the sake of his father. He had committed crimes unimaginable to a frail soul like Lucretzia's. "No sweet sister, I am also a pawn in this bellicose game. My destiny was set for me even before my birth. It is not one that can be changed, only carried out and I shall do so with more vigor and potentness than my father has ever imagined."

She turned her face away from Cesare to gander into the star-dusted night sky. Very rarely did her brother's demeanor frighten her, but tonight his icy words caused her stomach to churn. Something terrible had happened and she worried it would not pass easily. She feared that whatever had happened had scarred Cesare's heart forever changing him.

The siblings observed the heavens in silence for some time. They listened to the nightlife sing and gazed at a swarm of moths as their wings sparkled beneath the moon's silvery beams. The world seemed beautiful; it was people who made it dreary.

Finally, Lucretiza broke the tranquility. "And there is no way that you can be with her even if in secret?"

Cesare felt tears sting his always dry eyes. "Not and be the man that I have to be."

"That is heart-wrenching, my love. It does not even affect me and yet I want to cry. And I fear I will cry if you do not promise me one thing."

"Anything, my love, for I cannot bear your tears this night."

"Spend one last night in her arms and make it last a lifetime."

Cesare closed his eyes as he drew his darling sister into his embrace to kiss her forehead. He held her close listening to her breathe, he could feel the steady beat of her gentle heart.  _She had no clue what he had done or what he was capable of doing_.


	15. A New Life

Friar awoke to the soft giggle of children playing outside her farm house window. Still cloudy with sleep haze, her mind whirled trying to adjust to reality. Her mental state now awake and alert, she smiled; the cheerful children were a collection of orphans that lived on her farm. Their ages ranged from five years of age to ten. Of course they played more often than they worked, but that was fine with Friar. She was just happy to have them.

Yawning, Friar stretched her arms taking in her surroundings; her bed chamber was roomy and quite cozy with a stone fireplace, fluffy quilts, and thick curtains. How different her new home is compared to her old cottage. Friar frowned, it had been months since she had come to be Mistress of White Water's Manor, she rarely conjured memories of her old homestead. She had found that those memories were lonely and dreary.

Tugging on a robe as she made her way to the balcony overlooking leagues and leagues of fields and gardens, she reminded herself of just how happy she was in her new home and that she need not recall her old life. That life was ashes now just as her old cottage was. Here she was known as Divinity, the name her abductors had ordered her to go by claiming that the name Friar was a death sentence. She did not even know their names, they had vanished the night they dropped her out in front of the farmstead. She had been frightened as a deviated child, lost and confused from the terror of her abduction, the burning of her cottage, and the days and days of traveling bound in the back of a covered wagon only to be abandoned in a strange and unknown land. But Friar did not distress long, soon after the cloaked kidnappers rode away, a short healthy-boned elder woman, with a warm smile, greeted her at the doorway to sooth her fears with an explanation. Madam Armitage had told her that this was to be her new home. Friar knew without a doubt that Cesare was the answer to everything.

Friar waved at a group of sharecroppers, who helped her work the farm. The men and women gleeful returned the gesture with reflections radiating of gratitude. They had been homeless immigrants before coming to work Friar's land. They had lived many horrors and suffered destitution until a man in a black cloak offered them a new life at White Water Manor. Friar often wondered if the cloaked man had been her Cesare, but the immigrants never seen his face. They only said that he spoke in a regal accent and very warmly of their mistress to be.

Sunbeams spilled over Friar's land, its healthy vegetation glowing with a radiant vitality. A rushing river embellished by white rapids raged in from the dense northern forest twirling and flowing throughout the farmland providing the plants and livestock an abundance of fresh water. One branch from the river oozed into a nice size lake where the orphans now splashed and played under the soothing warm sunbeams. Friar laughed as one of the little boys tugged one of the farm's huge Irish Wolf Hounds into the water. The dog faltered and then raced into the water barking knocking the little child into the water face-first. The little boy splashed and giggled finding his predicament amusing.

"A rider approaches from the south, Daughter of my Heart."

Friar's heart warmed at the tone of Madam Armitage's gentle voice. The old woman was like a mother to her now. She had buried her only daughter a year after lung sickness had taken her husband, and like Friar, she had spent many years alone and desperate for affection. Friar took to the woman instantly, sensing how dearly sweet she was. She knew that in time she would love her like a mother, and she love her as a daughter. Cesare must have sensed this too and that was why he selected Madam Armitage. He was truly blessed with an insight, although she would not call it the Devil's Insight as the people of Rome had, for the devil could not see love and compassion as Cesare did.

Friar kissed the short lady's cheek before looking into the direction of the cloaked rider. A sharp rush raced up Friar's spine, her heart pounded wildly, she recognized the silhouette of the rider instantly. Squealing with delight, she clasped her hands, lifted her ankle-length robe, and fled outside into the yard. The rider must have seen her as he slowed his mare and slowly trotted toward the stables as if trying to hide the enthusiasm in which he had ridden to her home.

Shielding her delight, Friar folded her arms over her chest and reflected a stern face. She could play this game too. Cesare lowered his hood as he made his way to her. He remained emotionless with eyes prying hard into Friar's soul.

"You burned my house and took me away from all that I have ever known." Still crossing her arms, she hissed with in a raw tone as Cesare kneeled to pet one of the Irish Wolf Hounds.

"You do not understand why. I had to. You had caught Juan's eye and once my brother wants something, he doesn't stop until he gets it, but you cast him out and since he could not have you, he would make sure that no one else did. If I did not do what I done, you would be dead now. Here in this land, Juan will never find you. Here you are safe."

Friar looked around her farm; Madam Armitage sat on the front porch snapping green beans, the orphans splashed in the lake, and the sharecroppers were bent over in the fields thankful for a field to tend. Cesare had granted her everything she had ever wanted. She now owned a prosperous farm and lush lands that would be forever hers. She had someone to love and to be loved by; Madam Armitage and the orphans, who were no longer considered orphans. He had given her a family and friends; people to cook for, people to tend the farm with, people to laugh and cry with. Because of Cesare, she was the happiest she had even been in her entire life. There was only one thing missing.

"I am not some simple-minded plow girl, I know that. For days, I had cried in confusion until my mind cleared and I begun to realize the reason for your actions. Cesare, I am grateful. I have a family now; a mother and brother and sisters, children that I love as my own. I have everything but you and you are what I want most." She said with a spellbinding smile that caused Cesare's heart to pound. She was truly indeed a bewitcher.

"Are you now asking for me?" Cesare questioned, standing only inches from Friar. He fought the urge to caress her silky hair, stroke her smooth flesh, and to taste her voluptuous lips. He had missed her so much that the pain of not seeing her had become infectious and finally after months of sorrow, he knew that his sweet little sister had been right. He needed one more night with Friar.

Without hesitation, Friar squealed, "Yes!"

Casting his eyes down, Cesare replied in a weary voice, "You do not know what you ask for. I have told you this once before I can never be the man that I can be, the man I would like to be. I have committed monstrous sins and these sins that I have committed are nothing compare to the crimes that I will commit later in life. I will do things that you can never imagine. I am a Borgia and this is my fate."

"I know what I ask for and all that comes with it. I forgive you of your black heart because I know that it is not you that commits these sins. You commit them in your father's name. And so I ask you again my Cesare, will you come to me whenever possible?"

Cesare glanced at a group of young men as they broke in a green horse. They were all good-looking men and several of them glanced wishfully in lovely Friar's direction ever now and then. "Yes, I will come as often as possible, but if your heart wanders to someone more pure, know that you have my blessing. I want your happiness." He said as he looked in the youthful farmers' direction.

Friar caught his double meaning and shook her head as a mother would do to a child who had made her laugh, but at the same time needed a good scolding. "My happiness is within you and know that my heart shall never wander. I shall forever love you throughout eternity."

Cesare did not return Friar's smile. "No my love, you must love me only in this life for there will come a time when we must separate. I will be condemned to the fires of hell while you sing from the clouds of heaven."

Friar reached up and lovingly caressed Cesare's satiny cheek and said, "God knows your heart Cesare, even if it is buried deep and he will not punish you for all that you must do in your holy father's name. We shall never be parted, not even in death."

No, Lucretiza had been wrong. He did not need just one night with Friar, he needed a lifetime with her. Cesare expressionless lips melted into a boyish grin as he lifted her from her feet and embraced her with a kiss that boasted of his eternal love. "I love you Friar, I mean Divinity."

"And I love you too, Cardinal Borgia, I mean Cesare; Husband of my Heart!"

Madam Armitage glanced up at the sound of laughter and smiled, watching Cesare swing Friar in circles. Now the Daughter of her Heart had truly found peace.  _Life is truly magically and very much worth living._

**The End....**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read my story. I wrote Cesare and Juan to the best of my ability with Friar being my weakest character. I am unhappy with how quickly she forgave Cesare for forcing her to help poison someone and how easily she fell in love with him…I think I rushed her and suffered from writer's block when it came to Friar's emotional attachment to Cesare. Again, this was my first attempt at fanfic and being dyslexic, I know there are like a hundred errors.
> 
> Maybe my next attempt will be better. Wish me luck! xoxoxox

**Author's Note:**

> [](https://imgbb.com/)


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